Hurricane Katrina
by Greer Bontro
Summary: Bishop bailed. Goren has a different temp partner. How was she different than Bishop or Eames? Chap.27, Back to the Future, is up with the ending that no one imagined.
1. Bishop's Surprise

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns 'em. I invited Bobby to come out and play.

Summary: Eames is on maternity leave. Bishop bails. Who will partner with the infamous Detective Goren?

Rating: K+ (this chap.)

Genre: Humor/Angst (who said they don't mix?)

Characters: Goren, Eames, Deakins

Reviews welcome.

Chap. 1: Bishop's Surprise

Place: Major Case Squad, One Police Plaza

"Shit!" muttered Captain James Deakins to himself, "How the hell do I tell Goren that the replacement for Eames has bailed on us less than a week before her start date?"

Detective Lynne Bishop was scheduled to start at Major Case next Monday, but Bishop had received a wonderful offer from the FBI. It was a now-or-never offer and Bishop had jumped at it, leaving Major Case in her dust. Deakins quickly sent out an email to all appropriate department heads notifying them that this temp spot in Major Case had opened up again, hoping they would encourage some of their people to apply. Deakins sighed to himself. Goren had gone through partners like Kleenex. Both male and female partners had tried and then refused to work with him, a dozen of them. Too quirky, too weird, too difficult, too intimidating, too yada yada yada. His reputation was known far and wide. Only Detective Alexandra Eames had stuck with him. It was a brilliant pairing. They had the best solve rate in the state, never mind the city. But Eames was on a maternity leave that would last at least four months, longer if she ended up having a C-section. _God forbid._

_What does Goren need in a partner? Someone very intelligent who will understand him when he spouts obscure references, who will stand up to him, challenge him, soothe him, keep him grounded, tag-team with him, let him be the alpha male, but always make him feel safe. It should probably be a woman. Could Eames have herself cloned? Women detectives like her didn't grow on trees, unfortunately._

Twenty four hours later Deakins was reviewing a half dozen resumes and applications for Eames' job. Everyone looked good on paper, but when Deakins looked over their work record, their personality profile, he knew they would be on a collision course with Goren from day one. No one wants to be on a collision course with a man who's 6' 4" and weighs a good 240 lbs. Except maybe _this one_. Katrina Katayeva, age 35. She'd worked homicide, SVU and vice; was an officer the National Guard, military intelligence, spent three months in Afghanistan, top secret security clearance, advanced military weapons training; graduated _summa cum laude_ from SUNY Stony Brook with a double major in sociology and psychology, double minors in criminal justice and anthropology; Master's degree in psychology and the law from Columbia; self-defense certification; speaks fluent Russian, as well as several other languages; computer geek – authors a tech column in a criminal justice journal; database expert; youngest of six children born in the U.S. to Russian immigrants. The other five kids were boys. _Oh, this was a good sign. Eames had a passel of big brothers. It makes a girl grow up a little tougher._ There was a photo. Katayeva is 5' 10" tall. Dressed impeccably. _Why the hell isn't she on the cover of Vogue? Maybe she and Goren can shop Armani together._ Oh, and she's married with two small children. Her husband is a bond trader at Cantor Fitzgerald, Irish last name. They share a large two-family house with her parents. Her father is a wood-carver and sculptor. Her mother had been a nurse, and now took care of her daughter's children. Deakins especially liked the comment in Katayeva's file from Capt. Don Cragen, "This woman doesn't take crap from anybody. She can tell someone to go to hell so that they will actually look forward to making the trip. Excellent partner, excellent detective."

When Deakins got news of Bishop's departure, he decided to _not_ tell Goren nor anyone else in Major Case about it until he had a replacement waiting in the wings. He made the obligatory calls to Katayeva's previous supervisors. Everyone praised her work, her hustle, and her ability to get along. Cragen had even said that if anyone could handle Goren it would be Katayeva. Cragen also added that he wouldn't wish Goren on _anybody._

On Thursday morning Deakins called Goren into his office. He was going to give him the bad news and the good news all at once, providing Goren less opportunity to brood over Bishop's departure. Goren did not like change. He was already out-of-kilter because of Eames' leave.

"Take a seat and close the door."

Goren immediately became suspicious.

"Is something wrong with Eames, Captain?"

"Uh, no, not at all. Eames is just fine. I called you in to tell you that Detective Bishop has ditched us for an offer from the FBI. So, she won't be joining us next week."

Goren had a strange look on his face. He'd been through the partner lottery before and had not enjoyed it, but he didn't utter a word.

"The good news is that you will have a new temp partner starting on Monday morning."

"Who? Where could you possibly find someone on such short notice?" demanded Goren.

"Her name is Katrina Katayeva. Here's her resume. I met with her last night and I was very impressed. She may not be Eames, but I think you two can work together well."

Goren scrutinized the resume carefully.

"Well, Captain, she certainly has impeccable credentials on paper," Goren admitted grudgingly.

"Oh, and here's a photo of her, Goren."

Goren blinked at the photo. "Hmph. Looks like a fashion model," he said dismissively.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, Goren. You hate it when people do it to you."

Goren just scrubbed his face with his hands. Deakins recognized it for the stress-related signal that it was.

"Katayeva will be here at 11:30 a.m. today to meet you. I want you two to have lunch together. I expect your full cooperation. Do I make myself clear, Detective?"

Goren just nodded and left Deakins' office. Popped three Advil™ in his mouth as soon as he got to his desk. Washed them down with lukewarm Starbucks™. Then he hid out in an empty conference room so he could phone Eames in private.

"Bobby, I know of her, but never actually met her. Our paths just never crossed. Never heard a bad word, though. Hey, you're going to meet her in less than two hours."

Goren grumbled something in response.

"Hey, Goren. Listen to me. It takes two people to make a partnership. Both have to work at it and both have to give a little. Even if it's a temp situation. You don't want to be miserable for the next few months, do you?"

"No, Eames, I don't," he conceded.

"Then shape up, buddy! You don't want Deakins on your case. Play nice with the woman, Goren."

"She's…..she's tall, Eames"

"How freakin' tall can she be?"

"Five feet, ten inches."

"Good…she'll have a better chance of looking you in the eye than I ever do," chuckled Eames.

"She…she was a psych major in college and….and grad school."

"Afraid she will out-analyze you, Bobby?"

"Uh…no…not at all."

"Liar."

"I..."

But he was interrupted by Eames.

"I gotta go, Bobby. This kid is kickin' my bladder and I need to hit the john again. I'll talk to you later. Behave yourself."

"OK, g'bye, Eames."

Eames didn't answer. She had already hung up and was headed for the bathroom. When ya gotta go, ya gotta go.


	2. Beauty

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns 'em. I invited Bobby to come out and play.

Summary: Eames is on maternity leave. Bishop bails. Who will partner with the infamous Detective Goren?

Rating: K+ (this chap.)

Genre: Humor/Angst (who said they don't mix?)

Reviews welcome.

Chap. 2 - Beauty

Katrina Katayeva was dressed to professional perfection. Prada black pants and matching fitted blazer, cream silk top. No cleavage, no see-through. _We're not working Vice here_. A pair of Asos double buckle black flat slingbacks were on her feet. When you're 5' 10" you didn't need heels. And a cop can't run in heels. Very minimal jewelry. Small yellow gold hoop earrings and a plain watch, an inexpensive Timex goldtone stainless steel expansion band style. Easier to remove if it got caught on anything. No great loss if someone stole it. A Monet gold tone chain necklace, one that would easily break away if yanked on. No rings. The 2 carat oval diamond engagement ring and matching diamond wedding band were in the safe deposit box. They only attracted trouble in her line of work. Her curly chestnut hair framed her face. Kat long ago gave up the blow-drying routine to make it straight. Took way too much time. Fingernails short, no polish. Makeup was also minimal. A little blusher, eyebrow pencil, lip gloss. Gorgeous model-types needed to play _down_ their looks in this business. The goal was to be pretty enough to be noticed, but not so stunning as to be thought to not have a brain in your head. Katrina Katayeva had perfected the art of going from stunning to just charmingly pretty. It made her professional life much easier.

Kat had spent the preceding twelve hours reading the files for the last twenty five cases Goren and Eames had worked on. She read every report they had written, every scribble, every note. Viewed every video of every interrogation. And she pulled every news clipping ever printed about them. She already knew the big guy's reputation for quirkiness and how he depended on Eames. Observing their synchronicity gave Katayeva valuable insights into what Goren was used to, what he needed and expected from his partner, and what he was capable of. Katayeva was absolutely certain that Goren would reference those prior cases somehow as they worked together. And he would be distressed if his new partner was clueless as to what he was talking about. She wasn't going to be clueless. She just had no intention of telling him that she had reviewed the case files. Let him think she was _psychic._ She needed to fill Eames' shoes so well that Goren barely missed a beat.

In one hour she'd go face to face with the Wizard of One P.P. It was joked that Goren could get Karl Rove to confess to all the dirty election tricks if he was given enough time in the interrogation room. While other detectives ran away from partnering with Goren, Katrina Katayeva ran towards him. How often in your life do you get to work with and learn from a genius? Not often. Take 'em as they come. So, Goren was difficult; he exhibited odd behavior; he was very in-his-head; and he was big, big as a bear. So what? Kat had five older brothers. They could be difficult and had certainly displayed some odd behavior over the years. The shortest was 6'3", the tallest 6'7". They were all bruisers on the outside, teddy bears on the inside. Big guys didn't intimidate her. She's been dealing with them all of her life.


	3. And the Beast

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf owns 'em. I invited Bobby to come out and play.

Summary: Eames is on maternity leave. Bishop bails. Who will partner with the infamous Detective Goren?

Rating: K+ (this chap.)

Genre: Humor/Angst (who said they don't mix?)

Characters: Goren, Deakins

Reviews welcome.

Chap. 3 – And the Beast

Goren sat at his desk, staring at Eames' empty chair. Throwing balls of wadded up paper at it. There is _no_ replacement for Detective Alexandra Eames! How dare anyone think they could take the place of _his_ Eames? And now what had Deakins come up with? A goddamn beauty queen. Probably afraid she'll chip her nail polish. She'll spend all damn day in the ladies' room primping. Women who look like that never have to put forth any effort. Everything is given to them just because of their mere existence. All that is required of them is that they look good and smile.

Robert Goren enjoyed beautiful women. He was as normal as the next guy, at least in that respect. But looking like _that_ was a freakin' distraction. A distraction to himself, to other officers working on a case, to witnesses, and to suspects. Not only would Katrina _whatever_ be a distraction, what's worse, she would not be taken _seriously._ How the hell could he sit across the desk from _Barbie_ for christ's sake? This was going to be a huge problem.

She's not going to know all about the previous cases Eames and I worked. She won't be able to read my mind, guess where I am going, follow my lead, finish my sentences, keep me from going off the deep end. What the hell good was she?

It was already 10:45 a.m. Katrina _whatever_ wasn't due until 11:30. Goren had been stuck drinking 1PP coffee this morning, since it would have been Eames' turn to stop at Starbucks for coffee and maybe one of those wonderful raspberry scones. He forgot to stop on the way to work, so he had battery acid-grade coffee and stale Danish. He didn't dare walk out the door to go for coffee or anything else. Deakins would have his hide.

"Deakins!" he snorted. _This is all his damn fault for bringing in Miss Universe, for god's sakes._

Goren looked around the bull pen. He noticed Logan and Barek chatting and filling out the endless paperwork. Logan. Jeez, there's another problem. He'll be sniffing around _Miss America_ like a dog in heat. What if she's interested in Logan? Shit, he doesn't need her and Logan to get involved! That would be unprofessional and an even _bigger_ distraction!

Goren hauled himself out of his chair. Paced around the office. Looked out the windows. Glared at anyone who dared to look at him. Circled back. Plopped his ass back in his chair with a thud. Nobody, but nobody, dared to look up. Nobody wanted to butt heads with the bear that is Bobby Goren. Everyone pretended to be so engrossed in the papers on their desks that they never even noticed the grumpy bear lumbering through the squad room.

Deakins looked out into the bull pen. He saw Goren prowling around and everyone else studiously ignoring him. Deakins had already decided to allow Goren to wallow in his self-pity, at least until Katayeva arrived. Then, Goren was expected to shape up and play ball. No matter how much he missed Eames, the cases would just keep coming at them and that required his full attention. Right now Deakins just prayed that the two of them could get through lunch without Goren driving her off or Katayeva using some secret military weapon on him that she'd liberated from Afghanistan.


	4. Early Bird

Chap. 4 – Early Bird

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf – you know the drill. Bobby and I are on a playdate.

Characters: Goren, Deakins

Reviews welcome.

Katrina Katayeva had never been late for anything in her entire life and she wasn't about to start now. Actually, Katayeva suffered from _compulsive punctuality._ She wasn't just on time, she was early. Always. She'd allowed plenty of time for a pit stop at the Starbucks™ nearest One P.P., picking up her favorite chai latte and Goren's Guatemala Antigua. Finding out Goren's favorite brew didn't require major detective skills. Katayeva described the big detective to the Starbucks™ staff and they handed her his preferred coffee. It helped that Goren was physically memorable, dressed in Armani and that the counter staff girls had a crush on him.

Deakins had told her to be at Major Case at 11:30 a.m. Desirous of the advantage of surprise, Katayeva arrived at 11:00 a.m. The big bad bear would be girding himself for their meeting. She was going to head it off at the pass before he worked himself into a major grumpy state. Bringing his favorite coffee was just a little extra. Katayeva was not above bribery. If it was good enough for the politicians...

Katayeva stepped off the elevators at the 11th floor promptly at 11:05. Deakins was on the phone, sitting in his glassed-in office. She'd deal with him later. He wasn't her concern at the moment. She spotted Goren immediately. Even sitting at a desk he was the obviously the biggest person in the room. His body language told her he was stressed. Hopefully the Starbucks would help. _Breathe….think…make a picture: Goren's going to like you and you're going to like him. You will get along just fine. Let's roll._

She walked purposefully right over to Goren's desk. Placed the Starbucks™ in front of him. He looked up slowly. She caught the momentary surprise in his eyes, but he masked it quickly. Ever the gentleman, Goren stood up.

"I'm Katrina Katayeva. It's a pleasure to meet you, Detective Goren. I'm really looking forward to working with you." She extended her hand, Goren shook it with appropriate firmness.

_It's only 11:10, what the hell is she doing here so early? Trying to surprise me, grab an advantage? Do I smell Guatemala Antigua? How did she know I drink that? Eames didn't say she called her to snoop. Point to the Russian._

"Uh…yes, Detective Katayeva, uh…it's a pleasure to meet you also. Please have a seat."

_I still have the element of surprise. The aroma of the coffee has gotten to him. Bribery works. He has beautiful expressive hands. I guess I will get see how expressive they really are._

He pulled up a chair for her to sit on. Swiveled his chair around to face her.

_Katayeva is certainly stunning, but she's deliberately minimized her looks. The only makeup is lip gloss and a little blusher, clothing very professional. This way she's pretty, but not a total distraction. That's a relief._

"Since we will be working together for a relatively short period of time, it would be beneficial to accelerate the partner relationship."

Goren just looked at her. _Where is she going with this?_

"Detective Goren, you can call me by my last name or you can use my nickname, _Kat_. Either of these will do."

"Ummm, OK. You're never _Kate_ or _Katie_?"

"At work I am _Kat_, at home I am _Kate._ Actually my mother is _Kate_, I am _Duplikate_ and my daughter is _Triplikate._ That's what happens when three people in the same household have the same name."

Goren revealed his shy smile. He'd never met a _Duplikate_ before.

_Whoa..that little boy smile could melt the Ross Ice Shelf, for christ's sakes. Never underestimate this guy.  
_

"We generally use last names here, but you may also call me _Bobby."_

_A grown man the size of a bear and he still goes by Bobby. I haven't known any guys called Bobby since 2nd grade. It makes him seem deceptively harmless. I saw the tapes, suspects and witnesses actually fall for this._

Deakins hung up on his phone call and just happened to glance up. _Jeez, is that Katayeva already? _He looked at his watch, 11: 15. _She's early and she's chatting up Goren, for god's sake. She's got brass ones, I'll give her that. She brought him Starbucks™? Oh, she is good, very good. Is Goren actually smiling?_ _She must have tossed a Valium into his coffee. This is going way too well. They'll probably shoot each other over lunch._


	5. Meeting of the Minds

Chap. 5 – Meeting of the Minds

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf - you know the drill. Bobby & I had a play date.

Characters: Goren, Deakins

Reviews welcome.

Deakins strolled out of his office over to the two detectives. As he got closer, he could discern specific words in their conversation. Goren was talking about an article in _Smithsonian™_ magazine on Russian icons. Katayeva was giving him her full-court-press attention and responding with apparently knowledgeable comments on Russian iconography. _Well, the cultural level at Major Case just jumped up several notches. If the two of them start conversing in Russian, I'm just gonna turn around, go back in my office and shut the damn door._

"Good morning, Captain Deakins," smiled Katayeva, as she extended her hand.

"Welcome to Major Case, Detective Katayeva," responded Deakins, shaking her hand, "I see you and Detective Goren have met."

"Yes, Captain. We were just discussing the Novgorod school of painting," said Goren seriously.

"Ah, right…. So, where are you guys doing lunch?" asked Deakins. _Who the hell is Novgorod and what did he paint?_

Goren looked at Katayeva, "What cuisine do you like?"

"Everything."

"There's a nice Burmese place on the next block, if that's OK."

"Perfect."

"Have a good lunch, guys," said Deakins. _I've been to that Burmese place with Carver. They don't have any knives and forks. You have to use chopsticks or you'll be eating with your fingers. Is Goren is testing her? Hopefully Katayeva is not packing or she's got a talent with chopsticks._

Goren and Katayeva walked the two blocks to Mingala Village, continuing their discussion of the importance of iconostasis in the Russian Orthodox Church. When they arrived at the restaurant Katayeva noted that Goren held the door for her, held out her chair. They decided to share an appetizer, the Ah Kyaw Zon combination, and then ordered Pazun Ah Zut, a spicy shrimp dish, and Panthy Kow Swear with chicken. Goren didn't miss her near-perfect Burmese when she ordered.

"You speak Burmese?"

"Some, but it's quite rusty. One of my college roommates was from Myanmar. I dated her cousin for a while, so I learned to speak it then. Only use it in restaurants now."

Their food arrived. Neither one blinked at the chopsticks. Each expertly handled the wooden utensils and easily moved the food from the plate to their mouths with practiced expertise. Goren immediately noticed that Katayeva was left-handed.

"You're left-handed," said Bobby, "It's uh…unusual for two lefties to …be partnered."

Katayeva switched the chopsticks to her right hand and continued eating.

"I'm a natural righty. One of my brothers is left-handed. My parents thought the rest of us should all get a feel for how Mikhail had to deal with the world, so we all had to use the left hand for chores, brushing our teeth, cutting up food, etc. Using the non-dominant hand forces the engagement of the circuits, connections and brain areas on the opposite side of the brain. Now, I just consider it brain aerobics."

_I haven't done any of that switching in ages. I am not about to drop shrimp and vegetables all over myself trying to match Katayeva. Another point to the Russian._

"Have you done that with your own children?"

"Yes," chuckled Katayeva, "Katie and Mack have both been subjected to it. If they want to play Nintendo or XBox, they have to use their non-dominant hand on the joystick or controller. Makes for a lot of practice."

"Do you have any pictures of your children?"

"No. I don't carry anything that identifies my family at all. I can't. It's too dangerous for them if anyone gets a hold of it. Same reason there are never photos on my desk. Perps walk in and out of the squad room all the time. I cannot allow them to view my personal life."

"I understand. I'm single so I have never had to worry about it. I'm, uh….curious. How does your husband feel about your job?"

"Thankfully he understands it. I got really lucky in the marriage lottery."

"What's your husband's name?"

"Jack Kennedy," grinned Katayeva .

"You're kidding?"

"John Adams Calhoun Kennedy, the fourth. Jack is the acronym."

"It just occurred to me why you don't use your husband's name…."

"My initials would be K.K.K. Not a chance!"

"You said your son is _Mack?_"

"Yeah. Mikhail Adams Calhoun Kennedy. I refused to stick my son with the Roman numeral five after his name. Jack's never liked being _the fourth_, he thinks it's pretentious. Made him sound like a child of privilege, especially with the Kennedy last name. His parents are just average people."

_She and I need to get down to a more serious conversation here._

"Detective Katayeva, why…uh… did you volunteer for this assignment, if you don't mind my asking?"

"You have every right to ask. The answer is very simple. I like working with smart people. You have a reputation for many things, Detective Goren. And intelligence is definitely on the top of that list."

"Among others, I'm afraid," replied Goren, wincing slightly.

"Oh, sure, there's quirky, difficult, demanding, weird, intimidating, and so on down that list. But I would guess that 99 percent of the negatives are due to either jealousy or a small mind on the part of the person making that judgment."

"You… flatter me."

"Goren, when I flatter you, you will definitely know it. I majored in charm. I know how to flatter a man's ego up one side and down the other. I didn't sign on to this job to flatter you or to be your _puppy dog._ I expect to learn from you. And know that you will also learn from me. It's a two-way street."

"What….uh, what will I learn….from you?"

"If I could answer that question, Detective, I'd also be picking the winning lottery numbers," grinned Katayeva as they walked back to One P.P.


	6. Battle of the Brains

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, yada yada yada. I'm just checking Bobby out like a library book.

Characters: Goren, Deakins, Logan, Barek

Chapter 6: Battle of the Brains

Captain Deakins was chatting with Detectives Mike Logan and Carolyn Barek when he noticed Goren and Katayeva get off the elevator. They were engaged in an animated, but apparently friendly, conversation. Deakins caught the word _Anastasia_ several times. _Wasn't she the Russian princess who allegedly survived the Bolshevik massacre? Made into movie with Ingrid Bergman? Or was it Grace Kelly? Some blonde… Ah, who knows._

"Well, well," said Logan, "if it ain't the Wizard of Odd and the Russian Amazon."

"OK, Logan, pay up," snickered Barek, as she held out her hand, palm up.

Deakins raised his eyebrows.

"Logan wagered that you'd have to send a bus to get one or both of them at the restaurant, or at the very least that Katayeva would have bailed after spending an hour with Goren," chuckled Barek, as Logan slapped a twenty on her outstretched palm, "Thanks, _Mikey_."

"Barek bet me that Goren and Katherine the Great here would come back from lunch as buddies."

Detectives Goren and Katayeva approached Deakins and the other two detectives. The Captain made the introductions to Logan and Barek.

"Detective Barek and I already know each other, Captain. We were on the same panel at a criminal justice conference in Chicago a couple of years ago. Good to see you, Caro."

"Hey, Kat, welcome to Major Case. Can I take you to lunch one day next week?"

"Sounds good."

"Detective Goren, how about giving Detective Katayeva the grand tour?" suggested Deakins.

"Uh…sure.."

As Goren and Katayeva walked away from the group, Deakins gave Barek a congratulatory pat on the arm, "Insider information, Barek. Good job," he chuckled, "She gotcha again, Logan. You never learn."

"You _know_ her, Barek? And you didn't tell me? That's cheating, Barek!" hissed Logan.

"I'm taking her out to lunch on your dime, Logan. Never underestimate a woman, or at least not Katayeva and me."

Meanwhile Deakins caught up with Goren and Katayeva. They had just entered one of the conference rooms. A variety of left-over items from assorted cases were still pinned to the bulletin board – copies of photos, documents, maps, sketches, etc. Katayeva walked up to the bulletin board and took down a sheet with odd writing and symbols on it.

"Oooh, somebody using Demotic as a code in one of your cases, Goren?"

"Uh, yes….that case with the rich horsey set, remember, Captain?"

"Yeah….that's when we got a name with no horse. And, how is it you know Demonic, Katayeva?"

"Ah… that would be Demotic, sir, not Demonic."

"Whatever."

"My brother Ilya is an archeologist. When he was a kid he had this stuff tacked up all over the fridge and in his room. In middle school he handed in a week's worth of homework in Demotic, instead of English. The teachers were not amused. My father made all of us kids learn it. One of our many multi-cultural exercises."

_Well, they haven't killed each other yet, nor do they look as though they might. Seems friendly. Katayeva is smart as a whip. She and Goren have already managed a couple of intellectual conversations. That's more than most of us can ever do with him._

A secretary interrupted to advise Goren that the Medical Examiner had something for him. He was about to walk out of the conference room when it dawned on him that he now had a partner. He stopped, turned and invited Katayeva to join him. She looked at Deakins.

"Go on down to the M.E.'s with Goren. Good opportunity for you two to examine a body together. We'll chat later."

Goren and Katayeva made their way down to the M.E.'s office. Katayeva was already quite familiar with the Medical Examiner, Elizabeth Rogers, M.D., from her stints in SVU and Vice. She was glad of the chance to observe Goren at work.

"Ah, Detective Katayeva, I heard you were filling in at Major Case. Good to see you again," welcomed Rogers.

Goren was already slipping on his latex gloves as he walked in to the M.E.'s. He nodded to Rogers as he approached the body. He immediately began sniffing, touching, poking, prodding.

Rogers stood with her arms crossed just watching Goren, "He's the only detective I've ever seen that does ….._this_." she advised waving a hand in Goren's direction.

Katayeva just nodded. _Maybe we should all be doing it._

Rogers began her recitation of what preliminary info she had, "The decedent is Sister Mary Agnes O'Toole, O.P., age 67. She has rashes on the insides of both calves just above the ankles. She was being treated by a local dermatologist for eczema. Possible suicide. Waiting for the tox screen and the other tests."

"Why is this Major Case?" inquired Katayeva.

"The good Sister is a cousin of the Archbishop."

"Works for me."

"O.P….it's …it's what order?" asked Goren, directed at no one in particular, as he continued poking and prodding.

"Dominicans," replied Kataveya, "Ordo Praedicatorum in Latin. Translates as order of preachers."

Goren glanced at Katayeva, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"Years of parochial school," added Katayeva, "and it is unlikely that a nun committed suicide. That would be in serious violation of Church law, a mortal sin."

"Suicide rates are higher for people without children than for people with children," observed Goren.

"Do we know for a fact that Sr. Mary Agnes never had children, Dr. Rogers?" inquired Katayeva, "There is a recent phenomenon of widows and widowers joining a religious order after the death of a spouse, regardless of whether or not they had children."

Liz Rogers just leaned back and enjoyed the show. Holy shit, will you look at this? The battle of the brains. They can quote obscure research studies to one another. This is going to get really interesting. Maybe we can sell tickets.


	7. Breakfast and Lunch

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf - ya know da drill, folks.

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Rating: K+

Genre: Humor/Angst (who said they don't mix?)

Characters: Eames

Reviews welcome.

Ch. 7 – Breakfast and Lunch

8 a.m.Saturday morning Katayeva's home, day following the meeting with Goren.

Jack Kennedy scooped the fluffy scrambled eggs out of the pan and onto the plates. Added the toasted English muffins, a bowl of fresh berries, butter, homemade jam and two steaming mugs of Japanese tea. Put all of it on a large tinware tray and bring it upstairs to the bedroom he shared with his wife. _Kennedy, you are the luckiest sonofabitch on the planet. Your wife is drop-dead gorgeous, funny, and smart. You didn't think she'd look at you twice because you're ten years older, but she did. She actually married you and gave you two beautiful children. All is not quite perfect, however. She has a very dangerous job that she loves. When we married I agreed to never bug her about it. I have kept my word, no matter how difficult it has been to do so. She insists that my job is equally dangerous. On September 11th I was paying a call on a client in Hoboken. Otherwise I would have been at my desk as a bond trader for Cantor Fitzgerald on the 101st floor of Tower I of the World Trade Center. While I certainly have many colleagues and friends at my job, I never had a "partner" like police detectives do. I realize how closely partners must work for them to do their jobs effectively and safely. In some ways it resembles a marriage. Without the sex. Her partners have always been male. Some smarter and some better looking than others. None even remotely her intellectual equal. She is starting a new temp position with Major Case and partnering with the departmental genius. I know she volunteered for the position just for the opportunity to work with him. Even if this guy is ugly as sin, his mind could really attract her. I already found out that he's as big as I am. That's unusual, unless you count my five over-the-top brothers-in-law. Certainly explains a lot about my wife, being the baby sister to that crew. I've been very fortunate to still have what my wife loves to call my 'California surfer' good looks. As long as she's happy, I'm happy. And god knows I am a very happy and grateful man._

Jack nudged open the bedroom door. The sight of his wife in bed wearing that peach silk teddy made his heart skip a beat. Again. A half hour ago she wasn't even wearing that. _Focus, Jack. Breakfast._

He placed the tray on the bed between them. Handed her her plate, already fixed. She planted a kiss on his cheek, while her hand stroked through his hair.

"I _love_ a man who can cook," she grinned, "Jack you make the absolute best, fluffiest scrambled eggs in the world." She'd said it to him a million times before. He never got tired of hearing it.

"What's on the agenda for today?" asked Jack.

"Mikhail's soccer game, Katie's T-ball. Aren't you playing racquetball with my brother this afternoon?"

"Yeah, at the new courts. Have you spoken with that woman detective yet?"

"Alexandra Eames? Yeah. I called her last night. I'm taking her lunch today. Can you handle the kids? Is that OK? I really need to pick her brain over this Goren guy."

"I've got it covered. Go pick her brain."

His wife hand fed him some strawberries and blueberries. _She really knows how to make a man feel like a million bucks. I could stay in bed all day and…_

They finished eating, chatted about the kids over their tea.

"I'm going to take a shower…Can I talk you into washing my back for me, Jack?" she asked sweetly.

"Vice President Gore told us how important it is to conserve water, so I consider it my civic duty to shower with you," grinned Jack.

"Your patriotism should certainly be rewarded."

"I'll collect my reward in the shower."

………………………….

Saturday - Lunch at Becco.

Eames had indicated that she enjoyed Italian food, so Katrina Katyeva told her to meet her at Becco in the theatre district.

Katayeva already knew that Eames was short, blonde and very pregnant. It wasn't hard to spot her. The women shook hands and went into the restaurant. Both ordered the special _Sinfonia di Pasta_ consisting of salad, appetizers and pasta.

"Detective Eames, you look terrific. How are you feeling?"

"Please call me Alex. And other than feeling like the Good Year blimp, I'm OK. I heard that you were visiting Major Case yesterday. How did it go?"

"Pretty well, I think. I must confess to bribing your partner."

"Bribing him? With what?" _A copy of Smithsonian?_

"Guatemala Antigua."

"But, how did you know…?"

"The counter girls at the nearest Starbucks immediately recognized my description of him and told me his favorite coffee. Did you know they all have a crush on him? It was really cute."

"I'm curious. How did he react?" _Smart cookie here._

"I showed up nearly a half hour early. I figured he'd be working himself into a snit and I wanted to head it off, if possible."

"Snits are difficult to get out of once you're in one," agreed Eames. _And nobody does a snit better than Goren._

"I just walked up to his desk, put the Guatemala Antigua in front of him, introduced myself and shook hands."

"Really? Was he surprised?"

"Yeah, but he managed to disguise it quickly. I not sure which surprised him more, my arriving that early or bringing that coffee."

"Where did you have lunch?"

"Burmese place….Mingala Village."

"Right…. the place that doesn't have a knife or fork anywhere in the entire restaurant."

"Ah…so that's why he chose it."

"Did you end up having to eat with your fingers?"

"Nope, I'm good to go with chopsticks. He seemed disappointed that I wasn't left handed though."

"He thought you were left handed?"

"Because I was using the chopsticks with my left hand. As soon as he said it, I switched back to my right hand."

"What else happened?"

"We discussed an article from _Smithsonian_™ on Russian iconography and the importance of iconostasis in the Russian Orthodox Church."

"You actually subscribe to _Smithsonian™_?" _What the hell is iconostasis?_

"Yeah, it fits on my treadmill reading rack and I find it interesting."

_Goren never told me he had a younger, geekier sister. _

"Did any actual case work come up while you were there?"

"Yes, we went down to the M.E. to examine the body of a nun."

_Viewing a dead body with Goren is always a treat. And Katayeva's still here.  
_

"Did he do his usual sniffing, poking, prodding thing?"

"Yeah. Rogers says he's the only one who does that."

_There's a surprise._

"I do stuff like that sometimes, but I am less _aggressive_ about it. Now that I've seen what Goren does, I won't hesitate next time."

_Terrific. Another corpse-sniffing-poker-prodder._

"Kat, if you don't mind me asking, why did you sign up for this temp job?"

"Goren has a reputation for being the smartest, if not the most unorthodox, detective in the entire NYPD. I like working with smart, creative people. Those people are often also quirky, but that doesn't bother me. I have five older brothers and our father is an artist. I know quirky."

"You're nearly six feet tall, so I'm guessing that your brothers are…."

"All Goren-sized. As is my husband. I'm used to them. I am sure there is a lot I can learn from Goren."

"Like what?"

"I don't know that yet. Life is full of surprises. It will probably be something unexpected. Now, please let me ask you something. What do I need to know about him that I might not guess? That I need to know to allow us to work together successfully."

Alexandra Eames went silent and thoughtful. _What can or should I tell her about Goren? What does she need to know to do her job and keep both of them safe?_

"Goren does his most brilliant work when he gets into the head of a suspect. Sometimes he has trouble getting himself out of there, or worse, he lets them into his head. He needs someone to reel him back in, keep him safe."

"How do you do that?"

"Sometimes verbally. Sometimes with a touch, I generally place my hand on his arm, or his back. He recognizes it as a signal to come back. It seems to ground him and help him return to reality. There is no sexual connotation to it."

Katayeva nodded.

"Goren needs to be the alpha male. He _is_ the alpha male."

"No shit," laughed Katayeva.

"Didn't need to be a detective to figure that one out, huh?" chuckled Eames, "Goren is extremely detail-oriented. He will expect you…_depend on you_…to see the big picture and help put it all together, Kat."

"I am _so_ glad you told me that. I am detail-oriented also, but I can re-focus my view or enlarge it, probably much more easily than Goren can."

"Another thing…Goren and you will probably switch-off occasionally in the good cop/bad cop roles. It's OK if you challenge him on his opinions or conclusions, just do it in private. I _always_ supported him in front of the brass, even when I privately disagreed with him."

"Partner loyalty is always top priority. I did high school theater. Have always enjoyed the role-playing part of this job."

"One more thing….on occasion…Goren will use you as _female bait,_ generally in the interrogation room."

"Alex, your tone tells me how much you hated that, how _uncomfortable_ you felt."

"Yeah…especially with a sleazy lawyer who murdered several girlfriends. Goren put me in the room alone with this scum and the guy really came onto me. Touched me. Wanted me to date him when this was over. And I knew that the guy's wife was watching the entire thing on the other side of the glass," Eames had to pause for a breath, "I couldn't wait to get home and take a shower after that session. I felt so slimy."

"While I may not _like_ it, my theater class trained me that it's a role, and I just step in and step out of it. And I leave it behind when I step out. It's served me well."

"Can I ask you a question, Kat?"

"Sure."

"Why aren't you working as a fashion model?"

Katayeva laughed, "Because I didn't want to add _anorexic_ to my resume. I modeled in high school and college. Just runway stuff, store events. They told me that if I wanted to go into print or TV work, then I'd have to lose ten to fifteen pounds. No thanks. And it lacked any intellectual stimulation whatsoever. It was fun when I was younger, but I could never imagine it being my real job. There's no achievement, no satisfaction. I need that."

"Another question?"

"Feel free."

"How does your husband feel about your job?"

"We made a deal when we got married, Alex. I could continue to work as a cop if I wanted to. Jack would _never_ bust me about it. However, I have to say that when I worked Vice, I could never mention my work at home. I could see what it did to him. So, one year in Vice was it for me. By the way, my husband is ten years older than me, same age as Goren."

"You're not going to tell me that they look alike, too?"

"Nope. Jack looks like one of the _Beach Boys_. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Really attractive and he's one of those guys that just got better looking with age. He's a teddy bear. Big family man. Treats me like a princess. I'm very fortunate."

_Wonder if this Jack has a brother?_

"Now, Alex, how about some dessert? The tiramisu is absolutely incredible."

"You twisted my arm."

"You're eating for two."

"Kat, do you mind if I tell Goren that we had lunch?"

"Nope. I would never expect you to keep it from him." _And if he's not a happy camper, it will be my first experience dealing with this big grumpy bear._

The two detectives finished their lunch. They were glad to have met the other. And each left the restaurant feeling good about their situation.


	8. The Goren Katayeva Show

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf – yada yada yada. Just took Goren out for a spin.

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Rating: K+

Genre: Humor/angst (who said they don't mix?)

Characters: Goren, Deakins, Logan

Chap. 8 – The Goren - Katayeva Show

Reviews welcome.

Monday a.m. at Major Case Squad.

Goren was pissed. How _dare_ Katayeva chat up Eames, asking questions about him! He had phoned Eames on Sunday just to catch up. During the conversation she casually mentioned that Katayeva had taken her to lunch the day before to pick her brain about both Major Case and him. _Who the hell does she think she is? Deakins said she had brass ones. Got that right._

When Goren arrived he noticed Katayeva's things already on Eames' desk, but she was nowhere to be seen. Since it was her first official day in Major Case, the admin people probably had her filling out a ream of paperwork. By 9:15 everyone else was pretty much at their desks. At 9:30 Katayeva came off the elevator, carrying a manila envelope. She tossed it on her desk.

"Good morning, Goren."

"Ah…good morning…uh…we need to talk."

"Sure. Shoot."

"Who uh….said you could talk to Eames about me?"

"Who said I couldn't? She's a grown woman. She can talk to whomever she wants and so can I. Women still have the right to free speech."

"That…that's not …uh…what I meant."

"Spit it out, Goren, before you choke on it."

"How…how dare you discuss me… with Eames? You….you had no right…."

By this time Katayeva had circled around the desks and was face to face with the big bear, standing with her hands on her hips.

"Did you contact my former partner yet? Ben LoMonaco?"

"Uh..no."

"Why the hell not?"

Goren just stared at her.

"Hey! I did my _homework_, pal. Just 'cause you _didn't _do yours, don't take it out on me." Katayeva was within inches of Goren, using two fingers of her right hand to poke him in the chest repeatedly.

Goren just took it. The big guy was ….stunned. No one, absolutely no one, had ever spoken to him like that before in his entire life. When you are 6'4", people are wary of antagonizing you. Katayeva apparently missed the memo. He knew he didn't dare poke back. She could slap a sexual harassment suit on him so fast it would make his head spin.

"And the most valuable piece of information I got from Eames was that you favor those raspberry scones from Starbucks™. Which is why I left one on your desk earlier, though right now I should probably take it and shove it up your………"

Katayeva halted in mid-sentence and mid-poke. She and Goren suddenly realized that the entire squad room had gone dead silent. Everyone else was watching them. Everyone except Deakins, who sat in his office examining documents on his desk. Or at least pretending he was.

"You all have nothing else to do?" asked Katayeva, looking around, "This show is now _over._"

Everybody suddenly found some files that required their immediate attention, phone calls that needed to be made.

And to Goren, in a soft voice and with a smile on her face, "Get over yourself, pal."

Katayeva walked back around to her desk, sat down, flipped opened a file and began writing.

"Goren, we need to visit Sister Mary Agnes O'Toole's pharmacy and doctor. Will you be read to roll in fifteen minutes?"

"Uh…sure."

Goren got out of his chair and headed for the men's room. _At least she can't follow me in here. _He bent over the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He heard the door open. It was Logan, not Katayeva, thank god, but he glared at Logan just the same.

"Hey, Bobby boy."

"Don't start on me, Logan."

"I'm just makin' sure you're OK."

"Why wouldn't I be OK?"

"Uh, no reason." _Goren may not have been able to poke back at Katayeva, but he could certainly take a swing at me._

"So, you gonna stay partnered with her?"

Goren thought for a moment.

"Yeah."

"Oh…OK."

Goren and Logan left the men's room. Goren went to gather his materials for the visit to the pharmacy and doctor.

……………………….

When the Goren – Katayeva show erupted, Deakins had been on the phone with the Chief of D's. Since the call was on speaker phone, the Chief was treated to the entire episode. And he had thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

"Jimmy, I've met Katayeva. She's a pistol alright. Damn good, too. I think she and Goren will do OK together. If she doesn't kill him first," laughed the Chief.

"If we had video phone, sir, you could've seen Katayeva poking him in the chest. She was right up in Goren's face. I've seen him invade other people's personal space, but never saw anyone do it to him. The look on his face was priceless."

"Damn, sorry I missed that part," chuckled the Chief, "I met a couple of Katayeva's brothers at some charity function my wife dragged me to. The neurosurgeon and the SEC lawyer. These guys are easily the size of Goren. She is just not intimidated by it. And she's no one's _groupie._

"That's what I heard before she arrived. Katayeva's certainly living up to her PR."


	9. Scribbles

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, ya know the drill, folks. I just had a play date with Bobby.

Characters: Goren, Deakins

Chap. 9 – Scribbles

Later Monday morning.

Eames had warned Katayeva about Goren's driving. Her advice was, "Don't." However, Kat thought she should give Goren the benefit of the doubt. _He's already pissed off at me._. _Let's not make it any worse. Let him drive. How bad could he be?_

"You want me to drive or would you like to?" asked Goren.

"We can take turns? You first," responded Katayeva.

Ten minutes later she was eating those words. _Jeez, Eames had been right on the money._ Goren tailgated, didn't maintain his speed, slammed on the brakes because he hadn't been focusing, because there was too much other stuff spinning in his brain. When Goren stopped for a red light, Katayeva jumped out of the SUV.

_What the hell is she doing now?_

Katayeva circled around to the driver's side, rapped her fist on the door.

"Out, Goren, out! I wanna live through my first day at Major Case."

Accustomed to Eames' comments on his driving, Goren laughed and readily got out of the driver's seat. He didn't care if his partner drove. That allowed him to think, to daydream.

When they had swapped seats, Katayeva gave him a look.

"Since you've got my back, Goren, I sure as hell hope you're a better aim with a gun than you are with this vehicle."

"Eames, uh... always drives," informed Goren, as he enjoyed her _discomfort_ with his motor vehicle skills.

"Smart woman," mumbled Katayeva, "OK, we're hitting the dermatologist first?"

Dr. Shari Ackerstein's office was on East 52nd Street. The subpoena for the medical records encouraged the nurse's cooperation. Sister Mary Agnes' file was thin, she'd only been to Ackerstein once. The record indicated that the nun was being treated for eczema on her lower legs. Three prescriptions had been given: Vanos fluocinonide; hydroxyzine HCI, and Keflex. The first was a topical corticosteroid anti-itch cream; the second, an oral anti-itch; and the third an antibiotic to prevent infection when the rash had been scratched.

"Unless the patient was allergic, she wouldn't have died from any of them," said Goren.

"Yep. Let's hit the pharmacy. Maybe we'll get lucky there."

They walked over to the _Drugs-R-Us_ on East 51st, around the corner from the dermatologist's office.

The pharmacist gave Goren and Katayeva a computer print out list of Sister Mary Agnes' prescriptions they had dispensed.

"I'd like photocopies of the doctor's prescriptions she brought in," said Katayeva to Goren.

"Because what was prescribed and what she actually received…" said Goren.

"May well be two different things."

The pharmacist made the photocopies of the prescriptions that Sister Mary Agnes' had brought in to be filled. Goren placed all the paperwork in his leather portfolio.

As soon as they got back in the SUV, out came all the paperwork they had collected so far. Goren handed her the pages from the pharmacy print out and Katayeva read off the drug names so he could compare with the dermatologist's list

"Vanos fluocinonide; hydroxyzine HCI; and …..Veletex," said Katayeva.

"Veletex?"

"It's widely advertised on TV."

"I've seen the ads. Theoretically, I guess that a nun could be taking the Veletex," said Goren.

"Look at these prescription copies," said Katayeva, as she handed them to Goren,.

"Ackerstein writes like a chicken."

"It's a medical school requirement."

"It's a distinct possibility that this nun died of bad penmanship."

"We need to check the PDR entries."

As the pair walked off the 11th floor elevator at One P.P. they ran into Deakins.

"What've you two got on the nun? The Archbishop is on the Mayor, who is on the Chief of D's, who is on me."

"At the moment it looks like she died of bad penmanship."

"What!" said Deakins, "How the hell do you die of bad penmanship?"

"Apparently quite easily."

"Figure it out…soon!" ordered Deakins as he got into the elevator.

"Looks like lunch at out desks. What would you like?" asked Goren.

"What are my choices?"

"Chinese, Italian, deli, fast food."

"Is the Chinese greasy?"

"No."

"I'll take it."

"I'll order, while you get going on the PDR," said Goren.

Katayeva nodded, grabbed the current PDR, found the entries for the three drugs actually being taken by Sister Mary Agnes, making a copy for herself and another for Goren. She placed his copies on his desk, then started reading the fine print for side effects.

Goren returned with the Chinese take-out.

"Whaddya got?"

"Ackerstein prescribed Keflex, an antibiotic. The pharmacy misread her handwriting and dispensed Veletex, an anti-viral used for genital herpes. The dosage on the prescription does not fit the way Veletex comes, it does fit Keflex. The pharmacy technician should have called the doctor, instead he just guessed at both the drug's name and then at the dosage."

Goren continued eating from his takeout container, looking over the PDR copies.

"This isn't indicating any major side effects that would cause her death," said Goren, as he leaned his elbow on the desk with his chin resting on the back of his hand, photocopies spread in front of him.

"Since when does someone like you buy what the drug companies are saying?" grinned Katayeva.

"I didn't notice _paranoia_ on your resume," chuckled Goren.

"Oh, it's definitely there. Check the fine print," laughed Katayeva, "and I'm proud of it."

The two detectives continued chowing down on their Chinese food, while discussing the case. Goren had moved so he was sitting next to his partner, while they searched online.

Katayeva tapped on the laptop's keyboard, Goren pointed to listings onscreen. They had turned up several sites with patients' postings about drug side effects that were not acknowledged in the PDR. It didn't take long to find the entries posted that complained of rapid heartbeat and cardiac arrhythmia in connection with Veletex.

"Now there's a potential killer," commented Katayeva.

"Either the drug company is not reporting it," replied Goren, "or it's a relatively rare side effect which may not have shown up in their clinical trials."

"Are you always this kind to _big pharmacia?_"

"Nah….I just like to see your face when I say stuff like this," grinned Goren.

That was when Kat smacked him on the arm. Goren just laughed.


	10. Nun Sense

Dick Wolf - owns the world, blah, blah, blah. I just took Goren out for a spin.

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Genre: Humor/Angst

Chap. 10 – Nun Sense

Characters: Goren, Deakins

Location: Major Case Squad, One P.P.

Goren and Katayeva spent the rest of the afternoon tracking down every detail of Sister Mary Agnes O'Toole's life. Bank accounts, credit cards, insurance policies, health insurance claims, news articles, former addresses, former employment, associates, family, friends, etc. Their desks were littered with printouts from databases and faxes. They each sifted through a pile, then swapped piles and did it again to make sure they hadn't missed anything.

"I cannot see a thing that would set off an alarm that someone wanted to kill this woman," said Katayeva.

Goren ticked off his list, "Her insurance, barely enough to cover a modest funeral, goes to her order. Her bank account has less than a grand in it. No large prior balances showing up. The order's pension plan does not allow for a beneficiary. The funds remain with the plan. Parents already deceased. Her will leaves what little she owns to her order. No one benefits financially from her death. Nothing current on her credit cards, nothing interesting previously on them, nobody we've seen in her past looks like trouble."

"So... why are we both so reluctant to close this out as a stupid pharmacy error caused by a doctor's lousy penmanship?"

"Because she's the Archbishop's cousin?"

"I don't give a rat's ass if she's the pope's cousin," said Katayeva.

"Me, neither. So, that's not it. It's too, uh, easy, too neat."

Katayeva stood up and stretched. "I need a break. I'm going to _Starbucks_™, want me to bring you back something?"

"Yeah, Guatemala…"

"Antigua. Back in five," finished Katayeva, as she strode towards the elevators.

Captain James Deakins sat in his glassed-in office, observing the bull pen. Everyone was busy and relatively quiet. _After that screaming match the first day I was afraid this might not work, but they seem to have found a rhythm, a camaraderie. And she didn't shoot Goren when he was driving. Points in her favor for that. I've been in a car when he's behind the wheel. I just need them to wrap up this nun's case to get everyone off my back._

Deakins saw Katayeva return, _Starbucks_™ in each hand. She placed one in front of Goren, who looked up, nodded, then asked her a question. Katayeva had been listening to her iPod during her foray to _Starbucks_™, apparently Goren wanted to know what music was playing. Katayeva responded by taking out one of her earbuds and putting it in Goren's ear. Deakins saw Goren close his eyes momentarily and relax to the music. _I wonder what it is? Maybe we should have it piped into the bull pen?_ _Goren has accepted her into his personal space with relative ease. And, lord knows, nothing is ever easy with Goren. I have no idea why this is working, just so long as it is. _

"Ahhh, I like Ravel," commented Goren on her musical choice, as he handed back the earbud.

"Confess that you were sure it would be _Bolero_ when I told you it was Ravel," chuckled Katayeva.

"Thanks to that Bo Derek movie it is his best known work, but I like this _Alborada del Gracioso_ -- _Dawn of the Graceful One._"

"So, when I'm a contestant on _Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?™_, I can ask you to be one of my phone-a-friends?"

Goren was so taken aback by the question that he didn't say anything for a moment.

"Uh, sure, I guess. Are you, uh…. going to be on the show?"

"It's on my lifetime to-do list," grinned Katayeva, "OK, back to reality. Why is Sister Mary Agnes O'Toole dead?"

"_The Nun's Tale_…perhaps we should ask Chaucer?"

"Or Candace Robb?"

"Well, in Robb's book, the nun claimed to have returned from the dead."

"Our nun is short a miracle."

"Who or what are we not looking at?" asked Goren, tapping his fingers on his desk.

"Have we scrutinized the pharmacy staff sufficiently?"

"Let's turn up the heat on them."

The pharmacy manager faxed over a list of all employees complete with socials, dates of birth, home addresses. Goren and Katayeva split the list and started running the names through various databases. A few employees had minor beefs on them….teenage shoplifting, possession of pot, traffic tickets, restraining order for a domestic dispute. The restraining order guy was on Katayeva's list. His wife had fled to a women's shelter and filed a complaint against him.

"Goren, didn't Sister Mary Agnes work at a women's shelter a while ago?"

Her partner was flipping through his paperwork, "Yeah, Our Lady of the Lake Women's Shelter…from 2003 through early 2005. Why?"

"This guy at the pharmacy, Immanuel Rupenian, had a restraining order on him in 2005 in a domestic violence complaint. His wife was at a shelter."

"We need to find out which shelter Rupenian's wife used."

Katayeva phoned the shelter. They declined to give out any info over the phone.

"We have to show up in person at the shelter. And bring plenty of photo ID. There's a reason these people are paranoid."

"Let's hit the road."

When they reached the SUV in the parking garage, Goren automatically went to the passenger's side and Katayeva to the driver's side. They drove to Queens to the shelter, listening toRavel as it played on the car's speakers from Katayeva's iPod.

The two detectives' ID and badges satisfied the shelter's director, Sister Mary Angela Carapelli.

"We need to know if the wife of Immanuel Rupenian was ever housed in this shelter during the time Sister Mary Agnes O'Toole was working here," said Katayeva.

Always reluctant to ever reveal any information about the battered women who sought refuge at her shelter, Sister Mary Angela hesitated. She knew about the death of Sister Mary Agnes. And if these detectives were asking, then there was a possibility of foul play.

"Detectives, I am extremely skeptical of any talk of suicide. Sister Mary Agnes had no reason to commit suicide. And I am sure you are well aware of the Church's teachings on the subject."

There was a knock at the door of the director's office. A young woman came in carrying a tray with a teapot, cups and saucers, milk and sugar, and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. She put the tray on the coffee table and then left the room.

Goren gave the director his shy smile. He moved onto the sofa and started pouring tea for the three of them. All the time heaping praise on the home-made cookies.

_Oh, he is really good. He knows when and where to turn on the charm. Old nuns are not immune, either._

Sister Mary Angela accepted the cup of tea Goren proffered. She pulled out Mrs. Rupenian's file. Records indicated that Marta Rupenian had resided at the shelter for six weeks at the end of 2004. Her case worker had been Sister Mary Agnes O'Toole. Rupenian had divorced her husband, taken her two children and moved to Atlanta.

Both detectives thanked Sister Mary Angela for her assistance and left the shelter. On their way to the car Katayeva started laughing and just couldn't stop.

"What's so funny?" asked Goren, genuinely puzzled.

"You," snorted Katayeva, "I haven't seen a guy try to sweet talk a nun since I was in eighth grade at St. Thomas the Apostle. Tim O'Donnell was trying to talk his way out of a suspension for kissing a girl in the school library. Didn't work. But, you, Goren, are much better at it than he was."

"I …I was just being… polite."

"You were very polite, Goren, and we got the information we needed. On top of that, you could get an Oscar nomination for that performance," grinned Katayeva, "best actor in the charming-a-nun category."

"So…you really think I might be nominated?"

"Definitely."

"Cool."

At 4:40 pm Katayeva grabbed her gym bag and disappeared. Fifteen minutes later she reappeared at her desk, disguised as a runway model. Wearing one of those slinky little-black-dresses. The kind that showed every curve everywhere. At 5'10" she already had legs up to….well, you know where…add 2" sling-back heels (Goren was a sucker for sling backs on a woman.) and her legs just seemed to go on forever. The dress was sleeveless, showing well-defined arms. It wasn't low cut in the front. But, _hello,_ the back certainly was! Goren suppressed a groan. _Thank god she doesn't show up for work dressed like that every day. I'd barely remember my name._

"Uh, Kat…we're not doing any undercover… work at the opera tonight, are we?"

"Oh, no…I have a date with my husband. We're going out to dinner and then we have tickets for _Jersey Boys._"

"It isn't a _date_ if you're going out with your husband," snickered Mike Logan. Hot looking women attracted Logan like bees to honey.

"Sure it is, Logan, when you're not dragging two kids out with you," grinned Katayeva.

"You remembered the rule about officers being armed whenever they are out in public?" asked Goren.

Before Katayeva could answer, Logan raked his eyes over her and smirked, "I just wanna know _where_ you'll be carrying your weapon. That tiny purse will barely hold a pack of gum."

"Well," replied Katayeva, "there is always the leg holster…"

"Can I watch you put it on?" grinned Logan.

"Sure."

Logan's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Even Goren looked up from his paperwork, not wanting to miss this show.

Katayeva put on her shoulder holster and then the black jacket that matched her dress to conceal the weapon.

"Hey," yelled Logan, "No fair! You said you were using a leg holster."

"You didn't let me finish my sentence. I was about to say how much I don't like leg holsters. You guys oughta try wearing one of those damn things with a dress."

"If you have that little number," he nodded toward her dress, "in a 46 extra long, we could have Bobby boy here try it out with the leg holster."

Goren nearly spit out his coffee.

"Apparently Bobby boy here has never been a decoy in Vice," chuckled Katyeva, "Good night, guys. See you in the morning."

Logan and Goren just stared after her.

"God, can you imagine waking up with her in your bed every morning?" asked Logan.

Goren couldn't imagine it. _Was a woman like Katayeva the bonus you received if you won the Nobel Peace Prize? What did a man have to do to have a woman like that love him?_

Note: A sound clip of Ravel's _Alborada del Gracioso_ may be heard on Amazon.


	11. Nun of the Above

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, yada yada yada.

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chap. 11-- Nun of the Above

Characters: Goren, Deakins

Genre: humor/angst

Rating: K+ (this chap.)

Next morning, One P.P.

Katayeva arrived first. She noticed the ME's report in their in-box, so she opened it up.

"Whatcha got?" asked Goren, as he strolled into the bull pen. He handed Katayeva her chai latte and put his own coffee on his desk. Before she could answer, Goren pulled one of the earbuds from his iPod from his ear and placed it in Katayeva's ear. She listened for several seconds.

"Ahhh…Peter, Paul and Mary. 1960's anti-war music," grinned Kat, "Maybe it should make a comeback? Thanks for the latte.…..Hmmmm, the ME's final answer is the nun died of cardiac arrhythmia from the Veletex. It was the only substance in her system capable of causing a cardiac event. We need to prove that Rupenian deliberately misread the prescription with the intent to harm the victim. Otherwise it's just negligence for failing to call the doctor for clarification. He can't be faulted on the reading of the word Veletex for Keflex. It's the dosages that don't match the Veletex."

"Remember the _rule of three_?" reminded Goren, "Two things are a coincidence, three makes a conspiracy."

"Yeah," responded Katayeva, "One, a patient dies as a result of being give the wrong medication; two, the decedent was the case worker who influenced Mrs. Rupenian to leave an abusive husband; and three, the pharmacy tech who filled the decedent's prescription is the abusive husband whose wife left him."

"The nun was not a regular customer of this pharmacy. She only went there because it was convenient to the dermatologist's office. It is unlikely that Rupenian had any idea that she would walk into his store. It was a crime….of opportunity. The hatred, the anger at the nun was already there. That illegible prescription gave him a chance to channel it."

"All we can do now is pull him in on a material witness warrant."

"It's a start," said Goren.

"How about we chat up his co-workers first?"

Goren nodded, "Maybe he bragged …how he got even with that nun?"

"One can only hope, Goren."

Goren and Katayeva returned to _Drugs-R-Us. _First they met with the store manager to verify which employee had actually filled Sister Mary Agnes O'Toole's prescriptions. The computerized record indicated that Rupenian had done all three of her medications. The detectives started questioning the four other pharmacy techs. Three had not been on duty when the nun brought in her prescriptions. Anita Rivera, another pharmacy tech, was on duty the same time as Rupenian that day.

"I don't understand this," said Anita Rivera.

"What don't you understand?" asked Katayeva.

"The pharmacy counter clerk was on her lunch break. The nun handed her prescriptions to me. I returned to the pharmacy work area and filled all three prescriptions."

"You read the prescription as Veletex and filled it that way?"

"No. The doctor's handwriting was atrocious. But I recognized that the dosage didn't match with the dosing for Veletex. I filled it as Keflex," Rivera was very emphatic, "Not only did the dosing match Keflex, it is quite common for an antibiotic such as Keflex to be prescribed along with the anti-itch medications to prevent infection from scratching."

"Veletex would never be prescribed with the anti-itch medications?" asked Goren.

"Improbable, but not impossible. The pharmacy is never given any diagnosis, though it can often be inferred from the medications prescribed."

"If you filled it as Keflex, how did Sister Mary Agnes end up with Veletex?" said Katayeva.

"Someone must have changed it, I guess."

"Who would do such a thing?" asked Goren.

"The only other person on duty with pharmacy access that afternoon was Immanuel."

"Thank you, Miss Rivera. We may need to speak with you again," advised Goren.

Goren and Katayeva just looked at each other.

"Isn't that _tidy_?" said Goren.

"Yeah," sighed Katayeva., "Do you think it's too late in the game to check for prints on the prescription bottles? Or has everyone in the immediate world touched them by now?"

"Do it," shrugged Goren. Katayeva called in the request to run the prints.

A conversation with the store manager revealed that a filled prescription could be re-done or changed at any time prior to the patient picking it up. Once it was scanned at the checkout counter the prescription details were locked into the computer system. Those details included the employee ID number of the tech who filled the prescription.

"Goren, the employee ID numbers are not kept confidential," said Katayeva, "They're included on the weekly schedule that's posted in the stock room. Anyone could theoretically enter anyone else's number."

"What's going on, if anything, between Rupenian and Rivera?" asked Goren.

"Everything is either about sex or money. Or both," replied Katayeva, "Which one do you want to take?"

"Sex or money? Oh…uh…I'd like Rivera. Are you comfortable with Rupenian? He's got a record as an abuser."

"Goren, I survived Afghanistan. I can handle Rupenian."

Ninety minutes later the two detectives compared notes.

"Anita Rivera has a major crush and a major fantasy going about Rupenian," said Goren, "I don't think he reciprocated her feelings."

"Rupenian thinks she's bossy and too skinny. She's asked him out several times, invited him for dinner at her place, and he said he's always refused. He's a Roumanian immigrant. Doesn't take well to pushy American women. We already know he went nuts when his wife liberated herself from him."

"What's that quote?" asked Goren, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

"Gee, Goren, sounds like you've had first hand experience with that," chuckled Katayeva.

"Uh..no….not at all," said Goren, turning pink.

"And you blush like that with the female suspects, no wonder they spill their guts to you. Women find it charming."

"I'll…uh…have to remember that."

"I want to chat up that teeny bopper checkout clerk. That age group lives for gossip and knows everything that goes on or doesn't go on."

Katayeva asked the manager to give the checkout clerk, Tiffany, a break. She bought Tiffany a Snapple and the two of them bonded over a couple of Godiva chocolate bars. Fifteen minutes later Katayeva caught up with Goren at the Starbucks™ on the next block.

"Ya just gotta love teenage girls," grinned Kat. "Tiffany confirms Anita's major crush on Rupenian, and that it hasn't been reciprocated at all. He has zero interest in her. This has been going on for months and in the last few weeks Anita has become angry about it. She just can't believe Rupenian is immune to her charms. And, best of all, there have been several incidences of work errors connected to Rupenian's employee number. Tiffany said that Rupenian is a very conscientious worker. He's worked here nearly eighteen months and never had any errors until recently. Oh, and the delivery boy has a thing going with the stockroom clerk. Tiffany knows all."

"We need to get the store manager to assign Rupenian a new employee ID number," said Goren, "but not tell anyone besides Rupenian and not have it not appear on the scheduling list. The old number should continue to appear on the list."

"So, the only person using Rupenian's old number would be someone trying to assign blame to him. We'll also be needing some fake prescriptions for Anita to screw up using Rupenian's ID number."

Their scheme worked remarkably well. Over the next two weeks Anita Rivera used Rupenian's old ID number to mess up 3 different prescriptions in her spiteful attempt to get him into trouble. She was arrested and confessed when confronted with the evidence of her crimes. A search of her Rivera's apartment revealed a folder filled with information about Rupenian. Apparently Rivera had hired a P.I. to snoop into Rupenian's life. She knew all about the restraining order and the fact that his former wife had been at the women's shelter. The info even included Sister Mary Agnes O'Toole's name. Rivera's fingerprints were on the nun's Veletex bottle. And Rupenian's were not.

The Archbishop was happy. The Chief of D's was happy. And Deakins was very happy.

"I was sure that Rupenian was good for it," said Deakins, "Why did you two think it could be someone else?"

"Everyone else at the drug store said Rupenian was a meticulous worker," said Goren, "Except Rivera. She tried to throw suspicion on him from the get-go."

"And we discovered that Rupenian had rejected Rivera's advances," explained Katayeva, "There are only two causes of crimes, money and sex. Some things never change."

The next morning Goren and Katayeva were up to their ears in paperwork for the Rivera case, when Captain Deakins arrived with someone in tow.

"Detective Katayeva, you've got company."

"Company? Who?...Gabriel! What are you doing here!"

Kat jumped up to wrap her arms around her big brother. He returned the hug, lifting his sister off the floor.

"I had a meeting upstairs with the brass on a securities matter. I asked your Captain if I could stop by to see you."

"Detective Robert Goren, I'd like to introduce my brother, Gabriel. He's a hard ass SEC lawyer. Gabe, Detective Goren is my temp partner."

Goren and Gabriel shook hands, looking very much like two bears meeting up. Two bears who both dressed in Armani.

"So, Goren, my sister hasn't caused you to shoot her or yourself yet?"

"Uh,… not so far."

"Don't worry she will," grinned Gabriel, as his sister smacked his arm.

"She did, umm….. mention something about a boy being suspended in the eighth grade for kissing a girl in the library."

"I'm surprised you told him that story, Kate. Dad grounded you for a month for that stunt, besides getting yourself suspended from school."

"Ahh…you were the girl he kissed in the school library?" grinned Goren.

Katayeva turned pink, even as she considered ways to get even with her brother.

"These accusations are baseless. On advice of counsel, I have no comment. Talk to my lawyer," laughed Katayeva.

"Our parents have always said that having five sons was just the warm up for the arrival of Katherine the Great here," said Gabriel, clearly enjoying tormenting his kid sister, "She tell you about the time she hot-wired Dad's pickup truck so she could drive to Jones Beach to go surfing? How old were you, Kate? 15?"

"No, she didn't mention that," chuckled Goren, "I didn't notice _car chick_ on your resume."

"Gee, Gabe, don't you have to get back to the office or something? Chase down the next Enron or Arthur Andersen?"

"Actually, I'd like to take you out to lunch, if it's OK with your Captain and your partner?"

"These two just wrapped up a case, so she certainly has time for lunch," said Deakins, clearly enjoying the show.

"The paperwork will still be here when you get back," nodded Goren.

As Gabriel said his goodbyes, he reminded Deakins and Goren, "There's a reason they named that hurricane _Katrina_ last year, gentlemen."

As Katayeva and her brother walked away, Deakins and Goren could hear the conversation.

"Gabe, I'm going to tell your wife that your house needs _redecorating,_ that it's _out of style."_

"Jeez, Kate, you know what happens if you mention the word _redecorating_ to Brianna," pleaded her brother.

"Too late, pal," smirked Katayeva, "Get ready for _Martha Stewart_ on speed."


	12. Murderer Among Us v20

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf….yeah, yeah, yeah.

TI: Hurricane Katrina

Chapter 12 – Murderer Among Us, version 2.0

Rating: M (this chapter)

Characters: Goren

Summary: Goren's swinging the pipe at Lance Brody. If Bishop isn't there, how would it go down? Alternate version of Murderer Among Us, Season 3.

Goren and Katayeva were at the machine shop where Brody was a manager. They had confronted Brody about his anti-Semitism.

Goren is haranging Brody. Tormenting about Brody's mother and the Jewish doctor she had worked for. Brody's anger boils over and he grabs for a shiny metal pipe.

"You couldn't keep it in any more," shouted Goren. Brody leaned down, grabbing a metal pipe from a rack, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa"…

Goren wrestled a metal pipe from Brody. Now, he's swinging it at Brody and taunting him about his Jewish wife…

_What the fuck is he doing? Goren is losing it, shit, that's what he's doing! I'd like to take a couple of swings at the bastard myself, but the Department frowns on that sort of thing. If Goren hurts this bigot, it could cost him not only his job, but his career. He's too good to toss his life over like this.. Eames said my job was to reel him back in. Reel? It's gonna take a mack truck to pull him back._

_Breathe….think….make a picture…._

_First, Clare Brody._

"Miss Brody, do not move forward from this spot. Do you understand me? You are absolutely not to budge," ordered Katayeva.

Katayeva walked up to Goren. They were now side by side. He stops swinging momentarily because he sensed her presence next to him. Katayeva splayed her right hand in the middle of Goren's back. She focused every particle of energy she could through her hand to Goren.

_If you want to get someone's attention, whisper._

"Bobby…"

He glanced slightly to his left to look at her. That look in his eyes…he is in another zone.

"Bobby…..give me the pipe, Bobby…..give me the pipe now, Bobby."

"If you hurt this scum, if will cost you your job and your career, Bobby."

_Let's try the clincher. This needs to stop now. _

"If you hurt this scum you, will never work with Eames ever again, Bobby."

That's when Kat saw the change in expression flicker over his face, just for a moment.

_Well, that is evidently the soft spot, the magic word._

"Give me the pipe, Bobby, give me the pipe now."

Goren handed her the pipe. Katayeva held it in her left hand, behind her back. She did not want to break Goren's concentration further by walking a few steps to place it back on the rack, so she just kept it behind her back. Her right hand remained on Goren's back.

"Keep using your words, Bobby."

"You are the master of words, Bobby."

Goren gave an almost imperceptible nod, while his eyes stayed focused on Brody. Goren continued his verbal assault on Brody, until Brody made his fatal error.

"This isn't even the right number," dismissed Brody, smacking the plastic evidence bag that held the photocopy of the license number with his fingers.

"It's not Landau's number?" asked Goren

"No…It's…," started Brody, looking over at Claire. She's realized that her father is a murderer. Claire is shaking her head and backing away.

'Well, how do you know its not?" pushed Goren.

Lance Brody has just realized that he gave away that he knew Landau's correct license plate number, that he just implicated himself in Landau's murder.

"Oh, god, Claire….."

"You know because you stalked Sam Landau, you memorized his number," Goren loudly proclaimed.

"You tricked me…You see this, Claire, you see this? This is just the kind of sneaky thing you people do…."

"Sneaky?" asked Goren, "Like seducing your mother?"

"That Jew raped her. Those Jews got everything they had coming to them. I had a right after what they did to your grandmother…your mother. They killed your mother."

Goren attempts to cuff Brody.

"Get your filthy hand off me!"

"Lance Brody, you're under arrest."

Uniformed officers moved in. They dragged Brody from the premises as he screamed that his daughter "was not a Jew".

Katayeva returned the pipe to the rack. Then she started breathing again.

Goren was quiet on the walk back to their SUV. When he got in the vehicle, he leaned his seat back, scrubbed his face with his big hands, then closed his eyes. He was asleep in minutes. _God, he needs that. _Katayeva drove back to One P.P., playing soft classical music from the iPod, hoping to help soothe her partner. Pachelbel's _Canon in D. _Very relaxing. Katayeva often played it when her children needed soothing. She was familiar with Goren's taste in classical music. His unconscious should accept it.

_I have kept my promise to Alex Eames. My promise to keep Goren safe, to rein him in when he needs it. Now, will somebody pass me the damn Advil™ and the Stoli?_


	13. Pipe Dreams

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, yada yada yada..

TI: Hurricane Katrina

Chap. 13 - Pipe Dreams

Rating: K+

Characters: Goren, Eames, Deakins

Summary: Swinging the metal pipe at Lance Brody comes back to haunt Goren. Will his temp partner back him up when it counts or hang him out to dry? Alternate version of Season 3's _Murderer Among Us._

It's a couple of days after Goren and Katayeva had arrested Lance Brody for murder. Goren is at home after work. He's just answered his phone.

"Hey, Eames, good to hear your voice. I sure do miss you. How are you feeling?"

"I miss you too, Goren. And I feel fat and getting fatter by the day. Good thing I know that there is an end to this."

"Eames, I think pregnant women look just beautiful. You really do have that _glow._"

"Thanks, Goren, I needed that. But turning green from nausea doesn't constitute a _glow_," chuckled Eames, "So, how are things working out with Katayeva?"

"Umm…OK, I guess," replied Goren, "She's certainly smart and a quick study….but she…uhhh…can't quite read my mind yet, like you do, Eames."

"Well, I heard she read your mind well enough the other day to keep you from beating the crap out of a murder suspect with _what? _a metal pipe?"

"How did you hear about that?" asked Goren in a pissy tone, "I swear if Katayeva opened her mouth about that I'll…"

"You'll do _what_? Hit her with a pipe? Rein it in, Goren. She didn't utter a peep, but the uniforms who were at the scene told their captain that they thought they were going to have to cuff _you_ for killing the guy. I heard it through the grapevine. What the hell were you thinkin'?"

"I…I was just trying to…intimidate the guy a little, Eames."

"Apparently you succeeded. Tell me, how did she get you to stop? The uniforms supposedly said that Katayeva got right up next to you and was talking to you while you were swingin' that damn pipe, but her voice was too low for them to hear what she said. And then you handed her the pipe."

Goren sighed. _Should I tell Eames this or not?_

"You gonna tell me about it, Goren?"

"Oh…alright…."

"Well?"

"Katayeva said…something to the effect that if I hurt this guy …..I …I would never be able to work…with _you_ again, Eames. …Because I would have lost my job and my career."

"You were right, Goren. She's a smart cookie." _And she knew exactly how to get to you. Thank god. I'll have to send her a thank you card. Does Hallmark make a thank-you-for-saving-my-partner's-ass card?_

"Eames, I …I wouldn't have really hurt the guy…."

"That's not how it looked to the uniforms, Goren. Do you think you can stay out of trouble until I get back to work?"

"Yeah, Eames," laughed Goren, "I can stay out of trouble until then."

Goren could hear Eames' doorbell ring through the phone.

"My sister's here to take me to my doctor's appointment. I'll talk to you later in the week."

"OK. 'Bye, Eames."

The next morning at One P.P.:

"Goren, Katayeva. My office. Now."

The two detectives just looked at each other. Katayeva nodded slightly to Goren. They got up from their desks and walked into Deakins' office.

"Close the door. Take a seat"

Goren closed it and they both sat in chairs facing the Captain's desk. Deakins was not smiling.

"Would somebody like to tell me what the hell happened when you arrested Lance Brody the other day?"

Katayeva made the slightest hand movement to indicate to Goren that she would answer the question.

"We arrested him, Captain. That's what happened."

"Then why I am hearing through the grapevine that you…Goren…were swinging a metal pipe at Brody?"

"Captain, Brody grabbed the pipe off of a stack of them. Goren wrestled it away from him before he could use it on either of us."

"And you were swinging the damn thing at him?"

"I was just trying to make him back off a little, Captain," replied Goren.

"Sir, Goren was just trying to prevent Brody from hitting me with it. I had been talking with Brody's daughter, Clare, and Brody didn't take kindly to it."

"So, Katayeva, how did you get Goren to give you the pipe?"

"I asked for it and he handed it to me, sir."

Goren nodded.

"You two… that's your story and you're sticking to it?"

"Yes, sir," said the two detectives simultaneously.

"Goren, I don't want to hear about this kind of thing ever again. Understand?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Back to work, both of you."

Goren and Katayeva filed out of Deakins' office.

Deakins reached into his desk drawer for the Advil™ bottle. Dumped two into his hand, then gulped them down with a swig of bottled water. _Katayeva has shown her loyalty to her partner, to Goren. Nothing bad actually happened, so she had no reason to tell me anything. From what the uniforms said, Goren looked like he was going to kill Brody. I'd give my right arm to know what Katayeva actually said to Goren that made him give up that pipe to her. But I guess I will never know. She's not gonna tell me._

"Walk down to the kitchen with me for coffee," said Goren softly.

Katayeva nodded and they continued walking down the hall.

"I'm not drinking any of this coffee," said Kat, "I don't have death wish."

She filled a mug with water for tea and put it in the microwave. Raised her eyebrows questioningly in Goren's direction. He nodded affirmatively that he'd have tea also. She added a second cup to the microwave.

The whirring sound of the microwave effectively drowned out their conversation from anyone who might be listening in.

"I … uhhh…I didn't thank you for …for the other day…with Brody…..and now for this…so, thank you, Kat, for both."

"_De nada._ All's well that ends well. That's what partners do, Goren," responded Katayeva, "Even temporary ones."

The microwave beeped. Katayeva handed Goren his mug with a tea bag in it. She took hers and headed back to her desk. Goren looked down at the cup. The tag on the tea bag string said _Tension Tamer_. He snorted a laugh and walked back to his desk.

Goren and Katayeva spent the rest of the day on paperwork. There seemed to be a lull in major case crime at this particular moment in time.

It was late afternoon when the phone on Kat's desk rang.

"Detective Katayeva."

"Hi, Mom. Do you know where the duct tape is?"

_This cannot be good._

"Mack, why do you need duct tape?"

"Stefan and Alena are here. We're making a mummy, like in the books that Uncle Ilya gave me."

"What are you making the mummy out of?"

"Oh, it's OK, Mom, we wrapped some old white sheets around Boris. We need to tape it down."

"I don't think Boris wants to be a mummy, Mack. Go take the sheets off of him. I'll be home in a couple of hours at dinner time.

"Oh, alright, Mom."

Katayeva hung up the line, then dialed a number.

"Mama, please go check on Mack and the cousins. He just called to ask me about duct tape. They are wrapping up Boris like a mummy.

Katayeva ended the call. Took a long sip of her _Snapple™._ Held the cold glass bottle against her forehead.

"Your son is…uh…very creative…making a mummy," commented Goren, without looking up from his paperwork, "Who is Boris?"

"Boris is one of our dogs. A Russian wolfhound. Exceedingly good natured, thank heavens."

"How many dogs do you have?"

"Only two. Boris and…"

"Don't tell me….Natasha?" chuckled Goren.

"Of course," grinned Katayeva.


	14. Snippets

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, whateva.

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chapter 14 – Snippets

Summary: Six slices in time of Goren and Katayeva's temp partnership.

Rating: K+

Genre: Humor/Angst

Reviews welcome.

_Snippet No. 1_ – _You Put Your Flash Drive _Where?

Logan was standing near Katayeva's desk, chatting with Goren and Deakins.

"What's that thing hanging off your belt loop, Kat?" asked Logan.

"What does it look like?"

"Well, it says Sony_™_ on it, so it probably has to do with music. Like an iPod™?

"You can certainly store music on it, but it is not an iPod. It's a flash drive"

Katayeva noted the blank looks. She pulled an old 3 ¼ black plastic diskette from her desk drawer, waved it at them.

"You've used this?"

Affirmative nods all around.

"The plastic diskette holds 1.44 megabytes of information. My flash drive holds 256 megabytes. That's more than 170 times as much information. Most new computers don't have a floppy drive, but they all have the USB port that the flash drive plugs into."

"Women's clothing doesn't always have belt loops or pockets. How do you carry it then?"

"Simple. I just clip it to my belly button ring," smiled Katayeva, as she picked up some file folders and headed for the copier machine.

The three men looked at each other.

"OK," said Logan, "How do we find out if she _really_ has a belly button ring?"

"This ain't vice," replied Deakins, "I can't have her dress as a decoy in Major Case."

"Don't look at me. I'm not asking her," said Goren holding his hands palms facing out, "I don't need a sexual harassment complaint against me."

"Oh…we _will_ find out," smirked Logan.

A couple of weeks later, Goren came in on a Saturday morning to catch up on some paperwork. When he got off the elevator on the 11th floor he heard music. Rock music. Loud rock music. Abba's _Dancing Queen. _

_What the…?_

As he rounded the corner into the Major Case Squad Room he saw the back of someone standing at the photocopier. Snug grey sweat shorts, a pale blue t-shirt, white gym socks and Nikes. The woman's hair was in a pony tail, sticking out the back of a baseball cap. She was moving to the music. And she sure looked good from the back. It suddenly dawned on Goren that it was his partner, Katayeva. The music was coming from her iPod, which was running through her laptop on her desk. Before he could say anything, Goren saw her turn to her right. She had a big smile on her face, she was singing to the music. Then he saw the little girl. _That must be Kat's daughter._ The child ran to her mother, Kat picked her up, swinging her in the air, as she danced to the music. It was then that Goren noticed it. The momentary glint of yellow gold. Katayeva's t-shirt moved up slightly when she lifted her daughter. Moved up enough for Goren to see that she did indeed have a belly button ring.

"Detective Katayeva," greeted Goren.

Kat turned towards him. Now Goren could read the front of her t-shirt. Smith College Centennial. A Century of Women on Top.

"Hey, Goren," she replied, "This is my daughter, Katie."

Goren squatted down and shook hands with the little girl, whose shirt read _Future Smith Alumna._

"What are you two doing here?" he asked Kat.

"I made two copies of the Ferguson investment documents, so we can get started on them first thing Monday morning. I just finished up. Katie and I are meeting Jack and Mack for lunch at the Thai place where we had lunch."

"Do you know how to eat with chopsticks?" Goren asked Katie.

The little girl nodded _yes _vigorously.

"Why am I not surprised?" chuckled Goren, "You're as pretty as your mom and just as smart, I'll bet," as he ruffled the little girl's curly hair with his big hand.

"Yes, sir," said Katie, with a big grin.

"Got your mom's attitude, too," he chuckled at Katayeva.

"It's a genetic gift," winked Kat, "You have all your stuff, Katie? We have to go meet Daddy and Mack now."

The little girl raced over to her mother's desk and grabbed her purple backpack, then raced back to her mom. She handed Katayeva her flash drive. Kat promptly lifted her t-shirt about an inch and clipped the flash drive to her belly button ring.

"I knew you guys didn't believe me," laughed Katayeva, "See you Monday morning, Bobby."

"See you then, Kat."

When the elevator closed on Katayeva and her daughter, Goren started laughing out loud. _I should've known._ He just shook his head and got down to work.

A couple hours later Goren got out of his chair to take a break, stretch his legs. He walked past Katayeva's desk. Noticed her daughter's purple baseball cap with the word _Princess_ embroidered across the front. Goren picked it up. Traced the embroidery with his fingers. _Must be nice…real nice….to have a family like that. A wife who loves you. A couple of kids. Maybe I can order one over the Internet? I'll take one beautiful, smart wife who adores me; two cute, smart kids. Fed Ex 'em. _Goren just sighed…somehow he couldn't envision that future for himself, no matter how badly he might want it. He put the little girl's cap back on the desk and returned to his documents.

_Snippet No. 2 – Aw, Nuts!_

Goren and Katayeva had just walked into the M.E.'s. Dr. Rogers had the vic on the table. Goren nodded to the M.E., Katayeva called her by name.

"The deceased is a 55 year old male, Caucasian. No external injuries noted. I just started on him."

Both detectives had already snapped on latex gloves. Katayeva began the sniffing/poking/prodding routine. She sniffed the vic's face, near the mouth.

"Smells like almonds. Possible arsenic poisoning."

Goren nodded, but walked closer and stuck her gloved fingers in the vic's mouth. Moved his finger around, then pulled it out. Bits of something clung to his glove. He sniffed the glove, offered Katayeva a sniff.

"Almonds," said Kat, as she sniffed Goren's glove, "The vic ate almonds not long before he died."

"Doesn't rule out your poisoning theory, though," offered Goren, "He could have been fed almonds in order to throw us off."

Katayeva nodded and the two detectives continued their inspection.

_Ohmigod…now they sniff each other's gloves…._

"You're getting just like him." whispered Rogers to Kat.

"Why, thank you, Dr. Rogers," beamed Katayeva.

_Snippet No. 3 – First Wives Club _

Goren and Katayeva were investigating the murder of a famous Broadway/Hollywood actor. They were sorting through a stack of articles about the vic.

"How many times was this guy married, for crying out loud?" asked Goren, "He's got enough ex-wives for a baseball team."

"Spoken by a confirmed bachelor," laughed Katayeva, "Not everyone can be the _first_ wife, ya know. I'm not."

Goren was taken aback. She wasn't Jack Kennedy's first choice? He divorced someone else to marry her?

"Ummm, your husband was divorced?"

"No," replied Kat, "His first wife, Sheila, was killed when a drunk driver launched his pickup truck over a highway divider and crashed through the windshield of her car. She was four months pregnant."

"Oh…"

"And you were thinking something really juicy," chuckled Kat, "like I was the _other woman._"

"Umm…no, not at all."

"That would make you the only person on the planet who doesn't think that first off, Goren."

"I can't …uh…see you as the _other woman_, Kat. You have too much integrity for that."

"Thank you for the compliment, Bobby. Dating married men was never a concept that I embraced. And having five older brothers kept the guys in line," grinned Kat, "Sleazy guys were sent packing fast. My brothers are big and there's plenty of 'em."

"How did you meet your husband?"

"My bother, Gabe, introduced us. They're both in finance."

Goren just nodded.

"Oh, Bobby, I heard that you and Irene Adler used to be a hot item," smiled Katayeva.

_Irene? How the hell would she know about Irene?_

"Irene? Uh…where'd you hear that?"

"I'll take that as a _yes._ Jack and Gabe both know Irene through business. Let's see, how did she put it? Oh, yeah….'You screwed up your chance.'"

Goren sighed. _That would be correct. But Irene found someone else pretty fast, so it's probably for the best. What's his name? Carlos? Lucky s.ob._

"I heard that sigh, Goren. You really did screw it up, then?"

"On advice of counsel, I have no comment," chuckled Goren.

"You forget what we do for a living," laughed Katayeva, "If you're interested, Jack knows several smart, attractive women in finance he could introduce you to."

_Do I seem that lonely that people are looking to fix me up? Jeez….And are any of them as smart as you and look like you?_

"I'll…uh…think about it."

"I guess that's better than a flat out _no._ You know, sometimes we just don't see what's right under out nose."

"What is that supposed to mean, Katayeva?"

"Not a thing, Goren, not a thing," as she resumed writing her report.

_Snippet No. 4—Teen Angel_

Goren and Katayeva had just arrived at the crime scene. Young, Caucasian female. Face obliterated with a gunshot blast. They had no identification and were just trying to guess her age.

"Early twenties," edu-guessed Goren.

"I'm going to say teenager, high school age," countered Katayeva.

Goren glanced at the body and then back to his partner, gave her a sideways look, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Why?"

"Left ankle. Sterling ankle bracelet with one lone charm, a tiny blue lapis heart."

"Mmmm?"

"My teenage nieces…I have three of them, thanks to my brothers…keep me up on the latest teen culture. One heart on an ankle bracelet in the color blue indicates recent breakup with a boyfriend. The girl is still upset by it. Thus the color blue, as in having _the blues_. This is strictly high school age behavior. No one post-high school would be likely to do it. They would consider it juvenile."

Goren absorbed every word she had said. Digested the information. Found it acceptable.

"OK."

Twentyfour hours later the M.E. pegged the vic as in the 14 – 16 age range. Then they got a positive ID. The parents of a missing girl brought in a child identification kit that contained their missing daughter's prints. The girl was 16 years old.

Goren added that information to his internal database for future reference.

Possible spoiler for No. 5 – fanfic _The Burberry Conspiracy_

_Snippet No. 5 – Fashionista_

It was a nice sunny day in New York City. Temperature was sixtytwo degrees. Goren and Katayeva were walking from the courthouse back to One P.P.

"Bobby, are you cold?"

"Cold? Uh…no. Why?"

"Because you are wearing you raincoat over your suit."

"So?"

"There isn't a cloud in the sky, no rain is predicted. It's over sixty degrees. _Why_ are you wearing that raincoat?"

"You don't like my raincoat? It's a Burberry. Expensive."

"As a woman I pride myself on being familiar with the cost of pretty much every article of clothing known to the western world, Bobby. There is nothing _wrong _with your coat. Except that at the moment it doesn't match the weather. And, it definitely doesn't do anything for you."

"_Do_ anything for me?"

"Clothing should either be _functional _or _enhance_ one's appearance. Ideally both. Since you don't need it to keep you warm, nor is it raining, it's not functional at the moment. And it definitely does not enhance your appearance."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I realize I am being a real pain in the ass here," grinned Katyeva, "but I won't let that stop me."

"Apparently not," chuckled Goren.

"So, are you aiming for the _Columbo_ look? Only cleaner, neater, more upscale?"

"Do I umm…look _that_ bad?" Goren recalled the disheveled _Columbo._

"Well,… you'd look much better without it. You wear terrific Armani suits. They look really great on you and they make a good impression. The raincoat detracts from it."

"Oh…."

"What?

"I was just thinking," said Goren, "I had a black Burberry that vanished a few months ago. Into thin air. Now I am wondering about that."

"You think someone stole it?"

"More like _kidnapped_," chuckled Goren, "if they shared your opinion."

"Aha…the Burberry conspiracy! And you didn't solve the mystery, Detective?"

"Never even had a clue," conceded Goren.

"Then I am guessing it was an _inside job_."

"Hey…what do you know about it?"

"Absolutely nothing. I wasn't even here then."

"But you've uhh…heard things?"

"I refuse to repeat idle gossip," she said, managing to keep a straight face.

"I may have to resort to _torture_, Kat" replied Goren.

"That would be a violation of the Geneva Convention, Detective."

"I didn't _sign_ the Geneva Convention."

"I can produce a copy with your signature," laughed Kat.

"I'll just bet you could, too," snickered Goren, shaking his head.

"So?"

"So…what?"

"Gimme the raincoat, Goren."

"Why?"

"Pretend this is a _Nike™ _commercial. Just do it."

"What….uh what .. are you going to do with it?"

"Carry it."

"You're not going to uh…toss it?"

"No. I wouldn't do that….at least not in front of you," laughed Kat.

"Alright, alright," surrendered Goren. He took off the raincoat, handed it to her. Katayeva folded it neatly, squeezed the air out of it so it would be less bulky and put it under her arm.

"That was painless."

"I guess."

They continued walking, passing dozens of other pedestrians. Katayeva noticed that female passersby were giving Goren the once-over. Something that had definitely not been occurring when he wore the raincoat.

"I think your social life is about to improve, Goren. Improve significantly."

_I don't have a social life. Anything would be an improvement._

"Huh?"

"Goren, pay attention. Women passing us on the street are now looking at you. Giving you the once-over."

"You mean like the… umm… men look at you?"

"Yeah…but I'm not looking back, Bobby. You should be."

Goren started to blush. Just a little. Katayeva noticed it.

"Uh….really?"

"Yes, really! And that blushing thing is really cute. Women like that."

That just made Goren's face get even redder.

_Is he really as shy as a kid in short pants?_ _Small wonder he's still single at the same age as my husband._

They arrived at One P.P. As they were riding up to the 11th floor in the elevators every woman who got on gave Goren the eye. Some were very subtle about it, others more obvious. Those women who already knew his name made sure to say it, especially when they touched his arm. It was all Katayeva could do not to smirk. _Jeez, he'll have a date before we get to the 11th floor, if he actually opens his mouth. _

When they finally got off the elevator, Goren stopped and leaned back against the wall momentarily. Kat could see that his mind was racing. _With god knows what._

"That, Detective Goren," whispered Katayeva in his ear, "could be called the _Armani response_. You look really good in that suit and you're not hiding it under that ….that raincoat. So, Romeo, can you handle all this female attention?"

"Uh…I have no idea….I think I need some…ummm… coffee…or scotch…or something…"

_Don't laugh….don't laugh….don't laugh…it will hurt his feelings._

"Goren, why don't you pull out the files we need and I'll get us both some coffee?"

"Sure." Goren looked relieved to have something to concentrate on.

Katayeva hung up his Burberry on the coat rack, then walked down to the kitchen to get the coffee. Once there she ran into Isabella, the Chief of D's secretary.

"Hey, Izzy."

"Kat…how on earth did you do it? Get Goren to part with that stupid raincoat? Did you have to wrestle him for it?"

"Friendly persuasion, Izzy."

"Did you notice all the women on the elevator paying attention to him?"

"Yeah. I was afraid he might go into cardiac arrest for moment."

"Well, if he does, I know plenty of women who will gladly give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."

Katyeva couldn't help laughing.

"Did I ever tell you what we did with his last Burberry?" asked Isabella.

"No! Do not tell me! That would make me an accessory after the fact. Anyway, I have pretty much guessed."

"OK. Anyhow, on behalf of all the women at One Police Plaza, thanks for getting him to ditch the raincoat."

"You're quite welcome, Izzy."

Katayeva got coffee for Goren and tea for herself. As she walked back to her desk, she passed Barek, who gave her a _thumbs-up _and a big smile. She placed Goren's coffee on his desk.

"Thanks, Kat," as his eyes never left the paper in front of him.

He seems to have calmed down. Let him bury himself in his work for a while.

"You're welcome."

Then the two Major Case detectives sat down to study over their files, to put the pieces of a crime puzzle together.

_Snippet No. 6 - Oh, Baby!_

Goren and Katayeva ran into each other at the Starbucks before work one morning. They were waiting for their orders when Goren's cell phone went off.

"Goren."

"Don't call Katayeva, Captain. She's here in Starbucks with me. We'll be right up."

"Bobby," said Katayeva, "I'll get all the stuff we both ordered, you go now. I'll be right behind you."

Goren nodded and took off. Katayeva collected their coffees and pastries. The cashier had this dreamy look on her face.

"If he was in here any longer," sighed the girl as she looked wistfully at Goren's retreating figure, "I think the chocolate would've melted off the Black Forest cake."

Katayeva managed to forestall the fit of giggles that was attempting to descend on her.

"Did you notice anything different about him today?" she asked the cashier.

"Oh, yeah...he wasn't wearing the goofy raincoat. I think I'd kill to see him a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Have you seen him dressed like that?"

"As a matter of fact I have. On an undercover assignment."

"And?" asked the cashier.

"Definitely hot," grinned Katayeva.

"Is that his girlfriend? The little blonde woman he used to come in with? She's pregnant? The staff was betting he was the father."

"She's another detective. She's on maternity leave now. And, no, he's not the father."

"They always seemed like they were _together_...only I don't think either of them knew it," mused the cashier.

_What an interesting observation from someone who sees them regularly in unguarded moments. My suspicions were correct._

"See you tomorrow," said Katayeva as she left the counter.

_Goren doesn't need a date. He needs to wake up and smell the coffee. _

Katayeva smiled as she walked into Major Case._ Let's rattle Goren's cage a little. _She placed Goren's Guatemala Antigua and pastry on his desk. Got herself settled at her desk. Waited until Goren was sipping his coffee.

"I had the most interesting conversation with the Starbucks cashier, Bobby," Kat said casually, "Apparently everyone there thinks you are the father of Eames' baby."

First, Goren choked. Some coffee actually came out of his mouth. _From the look on his face, I'll bet it backed up his nose, too._ Katayeva was observing him carefully. Next she caught the momentary look in his eyes. The look that said _if only._ It disappeared quickly. _He's not even aware that thought lives in his brain. So brilliant yet so...clueless?_

Katayeva gathered up some files and started towards the file room. She walked behind Goren, leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Her next one could be _yours_, Bobby"

She was gone before he could respond. And Deakins was now standing next to him, demanding an update on something.

"Uh...yeah, Captain. Eames and I...I mean uhh...Katayeva and I...interviewed the witnesses and this is what we found out."

Katayeva wasn't fooled. He could hide it all he wanted. But she now knew the truth about Bobby Goren.


	15. Shape Up!

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, emperor of the universe

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chapter 15: _Shape Up!_

Summary: Eames' gives birth. What can Katayeva do for her?

Rating: K+

Genre: Humor/Angst

Reviews welcome.

Slight Spoiler: Season 3 episode, F.P.S.

Goren and Katayeva had just arrested Neil Colby, the co-creator of computer game Blood Match for murder The uniforms had taken him away. The two detectives were chatting in the court house hallway with ADA Carver, when Goren's cell phone went off. It was a message from Alex Eames' family. She had just given birth to her sister's baby, a 7 lbs. 8 oz. boy. Katayeva volunteered to take charge of the booking so that Goren could go call his Eames.

_Hmmmm….what kind of gift do you give to someone who had a baby, but is not keeping the baby? A week at the spa? Sessions with a massage therapist? I have to think about this. What can I do to move this situation along? The situation that neither Goren nor Eames seems to even know exists. _

Several days later Goren visited Eames at home. Brought her Chinese food and flowers. He wasn't at all sure what you gave or did for a woman who gave up her child. There's no rules for this sort of thing.

_Eames is looking better physically. She seems more fragile emotionally, though. Giving up your baby, even when you know it's your sister's baby, must be extremely difficult. Eames got all the post-partum hormones and the weight gain. Her sister got the kid. Doesn't seem fair._

Goren and Eames sat on her sofa, eating the Chinese food off of Alex's blue floral _Corelle_ ™ dishes. He noted that her appetite was good. Of course, that could just mean she hadn't bothered to eat all day and was now ravenous. She told him how bizarre it felt to now be _alone_, not carrying around another human being 24/7. She finally gave in and cried about the loss of her baby. Goren just held her. That was all that he could do. All that anyone could do for her. A little while later she was ready to make conversation again.

"Bobby, I didn't realize that I would be getting any gifts for having the baby, but I have."

"What kind of gifts?"

"Well, not baby stuff, fortunately. The secretaries at Major Case sent gift certificates for local take-out places, Angie Deakins sent a fresh fruit basket and Barek sent a gift certificate for six visits by a cleaning woman."

Goren was relieved that the gifts were not baby-related.

"Those sound good."

"Oh, and the biggest surprise was the gift from Katayeva."

"Kat sent something? She didn't mention it to me."

"A one year platinum membership at the New York Athletic Club. All services included. Like massages, personal trainer, classes, acupuncturist, nutritionist and all kind of other stuff. And they have a special post-partum program."

Goren just looked at her. He was stunned.

"Bobby, do you realize how much that must cost for god's sakes? She doesn't really know me. I only met her that one time at lunch."

"Don't worry about the cost. Her husband's a bond trader. They have money."

"Then I won't feel guilty accepting the gift," chuckled Eames.

"When are you going to the Athletic Club?"

"As soon as my doctor gives the OK. I'm really looking forward to it. I feel so fat, so totally out of shape."

Goren gently brushed her hair behind her ear with his fingers.

"You look fine. Your body just needs time to heal, that's all."

"I wonder if the Athletic Club can make me look like Katayeva?"

"First, they'd have to stretch you a good seven inches…."

Eames smacked Goren on the arm for that one.

"I don't want to be taller, I just want to be built like her."

Goren could see that Eames was tiring. But he didn't want to leave her yet. If felt so good to just be in her presence, to hear her voice, to smell her scent. So he just pulled her closer to him, making sure that her head was resting on his shoulder. Pulled the afghan throw over the two of them.

"I think it's your nap time now."

Eames yawned.

"I think you're right."

She was asleep in minutes.

_I can use a nap myself. This is really nice and cozy._

Goren lightly kissed the top of her head, then closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep with Eames in his arms.

The following Monday at Major Case:

Goren had already arrived and was sitting in his chair, file opened on his desk. Katayeva joined him, as he held out his hand for her iPod™ ear bud so that he could listen to her music.

"Ahhh…_Devil with the Blue Dress On_...a little raucous for first thing in the morning. Where did you get this penchant for sixties music?"

"My babysitter played it all the time."

"Babysitter?"

"Oh, yeah. My mother hired the teenage girl who lived behind us to try to prevent me from turning into a major tomboy. My unofficial big sister. Mom felt I needed more feminine pursuits and less time trailing after my brothers. I don't think it worked, though," laughed Katayeva.

"Why? You certainly look uh… very feminine."

"My brothers swear that the tomboy still lives just under the surface," chuckled Kat, "I wouldn't be interested in this job if I wasn't a tomboy. I'd be home knitting, for god's sakes."

_That I would pay to see. Katayeva knitting._

Goren nearly choked on his coffee.

"What? You can't see me knitting, Bobby?"

"Uh…no."

Katayeva just laughed.

"I visited Eames over the weekend."

"Oh, how's she feeling?"

"She looks pretty good, but feels fat and unattractive."

"Pregnancy will do that to you. Afterwards you feel like a slug."

"Eames mentioned your gift of the Athletic Club membership. That was very kind of you to do that, Kat."

"It helped me feel better and look better. I figured it would do the same for her."

_And after she's been to that gym, she's gonna knock your socks off, pal. There is always a method to my madness._


	16. The Plan

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, whatevah!

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chap. 16: _The Plan_

Characters: Goren, Deakins, Logan, Barek, Carver, Eames

Rating: T

Genre: Humor/Angst

Summary: Goren and Katayeva cook up a plan to mess with Nicole Wallace's mind.

Reviews welcome.

Nicole Wallace was back in town. That was never a good thing. For New York City, or the Major Case Squad. Prior to beginning her temp position as Goren's partner, Katrina Katayeva had reviewed a ton of case files completed by Goren and Eames. Among that impressive group were the cases that involved Nicole Wallace/Elizabeth Hitchens/Nicole Haynes. Katyeva had read and re-read everything regarding the infamous Nicole. Watched the tapes of every interrogation with her. That required several doses of _Advil™._

_Jesus H. Christ…what a bitch and a half. She torments him mercilessly about his schizophrenic mother and cheating father, while he harps on her father's sexual abuse of her. Even when Nicole could stay under Goren's radar, she makes sure to do something to grab his attention. You can see his stress level increase ten-fold when you see those tapes. Why does she keep doing that, when otherwise she could pretty much carry out her schemes with impunity? Why? Because she has a _thing_ for Goren. Nicole is attracted to him. Not sure if she realizes it. I think that's the reason she keeps coming back to him. Is Goren attracted to her? If so, I don't think he is aware of it. But, let's see how he feels about my little plan for Nicole._

"Nicole is back…again," sighed Goren, as he scrubbed his face with his hands, lost in his own thoughts.

Deakins turned to Katayeva, "If you've got any fresh ideas on finally putting this woman away, I'd love to hear it. I know you reviewed all of the files and interrogations with Wallace. You've seen her with Goren. I can't have her dropping out of the sky every so often to torment my detectives."

Kat just nodded. Deakins went back to his office. She wasn't saying a word to the Captain unless Goren was agreeable.

"Goren," she called. No response.

"Earth to Bobby, earth to Bobby. Do you read me?"

At least he looked up at her this time. _Well, that's a start._

"Uh…what?..."

"Let's take a walk down to Conference Room 2. I have a _Starbucks™_ and a raspberry scone with your name on it, Bobby."

That brought a nod. But no movement. She walked around to stand next to Goren. Put her hand on his shoulder, leaned down next to his ear.

"If you stand up," whispered Katayeva, "then we can walk to the conference room, Bobby."

"Umm…right." He got up and they walked into the room. She closed the door. Katayeva had no idea how Goren was going to react, but she knew enough to give him privacy.

Goren plopped into a chair, his elbows on the table, chin resting in his left hand. She placed his coffee and scone in front of him.

"Bobby, we need to focus here. Can you manage that?"

Goren straightened up in his chair. Shook himself slightly, as though casting off…..god knows what.

"Yeah…yeah…I'm alright, Kat….I can…uh.. focus."

"Let's start chugging down that caffeine, Bobby."

She pushed his _Starbucks_™ a tad closer to him. He took a sip…then another. It helped.

Goren sighed, "Why are we…um….here?"

"Nicole."

"Nicole's here?"

"No…just you and me."

"Ah…"

"Are you aware that Nicole Wallace ……has a crush on you?"

"What?"

"Nicole is attracted to you."

Goren blinked. Blinked again.

"I want to use that against her."

"Back up….I'm still….baffled…that you think she is attracted to me. What…uh…makes you say that?"

"I watched the tapes of your interrogations with her. Better than _Days of Our Lives, _Bobby boy. I particularly noticed that Nicole let up on Eames once she found out that Eames' pregnancy was for surrogacy. As opposed to being yours. And the way she speaks to you. Not just what she says, but how she says it. The way she looks at you, the way you look at her. If I didn't know better, I'd think you two are, or had been, lovers."

Goren was stunned. Katayeva could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Say I ….uh…accept your ….hypothesis. What do you propose?"

"I propose to make Nicole jealous. Very jealous. She's more likely to make a mistake when she's under that kind of emotional stress."

"And we'll make her jealous…how?"

"We will lead her to believe that we are engaging in.. …ummm… _partner fraternization_."

"As in….sex?"

"I knew you'd catch on, Bobby," grinned Katayeva. _That got his attention._

"So….will you and I actually be…uh….?"

"No. There is no _actually_ happening here. It will all be _implied. _We're not trying to make my husband jealous, just Nicole."

"Oh…"

"I'm flattered that you seem disappointed, Bobby," laughed Kat, "We will engage in a longing looks, touching, sitting a little too close…that kind of stuff for Nicole's benefit. She's bright, she'll figure it out fast. And I doubt she'll be able to hide it."

"Kat, you _really_ think Nicole is attracted to me? And that she will be jealous?"

_He is so brilliant, yet so clueless._

"Bobby, if you don't believe me….ask Eames. Bet you ten bucks she agrees with me."

_Is it possible the women have noticed what I missed? I must be losing my touch._

"What do you think she'll do?"

"I am guessing that her behavior will be directed a me primarily, though she may be on your case, too. Now….are you up for this? You can say no, it's just an idea I had."

Goren was silent for a few moments.

"Nothing else we've done has put her away. Your idea sounds as good as any other we've come up with. Have you …umm…run it by Deakins yet?"

"Nope. I wouldn't dream of mentioning it to him without your approval, Bobby."

"I ….I …uh…appreciate that, Kat. But I am …concerned…about you volunteering to make yourself Nicole's…target."

"Bobby, I've been through Afghanistan, for god's sake. You're telling me that Nicole Wallace is more formidable than the _Taliban?_"

"Close."

That night, Goren stopped by Eames' apartment bringing dinner with him. As they worked their way through the pan of lasagna, he casually brought up the subject of Nicole Wallace.

"Nicole?" said Eames, "What about her?"

"Do you think….uh…I feel so stupid asking you this….ummm…that Nicole …is…is attracted to me….or has a crush on me?"

"Of course. Just think of how she talks to you, treats you, enters your personal space. You mean you missed this somehow, Bobby?"

"I must confess, Alex….I really….really did not see it," admitted Goren.

_So brilliant, yet so clueless._

"Bobby, I am not saying that Nicole is _in love_ with you. She is _attracted_ to you. I think it's a power thing, a sexual thing."

Goren just rolled his eyes.

"It wouldn't surprise me," snickered Alex, "if Nicole tried to kidnap you and make you her sex slave."

Goren's sip of wine came right out of his nose on that remark. Alex handed him a couple of napkins.

"Bobby, I can definitely picture you and Nicole sweatin' up the sheets."

Goren was turning beet red, shaking his head in a negative response.

"Eames, I have no desire to sleep with serial killers. Hopefully I have better taste in women than that. Nicole's the …the human equivalent of the black widow spider."

"So, are you going to tell me what brought up this subject?"

"Nicole's back in town. And Katayeva has a plan to go after her. We are supposed to make Nicole jealous and cause her to make a mistake."

"And whom will Nicole be jealous _of_ exactly?"

"Katayeva. We are going to pretend we are, uh…_fraternizing_…letting her think that we have a _relationship_. You know…ummm…meaningful looks, touching, that kind of stuff."

Eames was silent for a moment.

"Well, Bobby….it's either brilliant or insane. I'm not sure which one. Katayeva is certainly incredibly attractive. And I'll bet she can step it up to over-the-top. So, your part of the act will be easy," grinned Eames.

"I am really concerned….about making Katayeva into Nicole's newest target. But, she…uh….figures is she could deal with the …uh…_Taliban_….this couldn't be worse."

"The _Taliban_! No shit, Bobby. She was in Afghanistan? What did she do over there?"

"Deakins asked her….she.. umm …said 'If I told you…."

"'I'd have to kill you'….Jeez. What'd the captain say to that?"

"He rolled his eyes, but I think he was really impressed. Kat has major security clearances. God knows what she did in the military."

"Well, Bobby, you both just have to be real careful. Nicole is always a wild card. You never know what the hell she's gonna do."

Two days later, in Deakins' office.

"You two want to do _what?_ Katayeva, you want to set a trap for Nicole Wallace? And you are going to use yourself as bait? You think Wallace has a crush on Goren, for god's sakes?"

"Affirmative to all of the above, Captain," said Kat.

"Goren, how are you with all this? You're the one with a history with Wallace. You know what she's capable of."

"Oh…it's definitely risky, sir. But, so far, Wallace is still free. We need to put her away. I am willing to do it, if Katayeva is willing to put herself on the line."

"I need to know, you two. Whose idea was this?"

"Totally mine, Captain," replied Kat.

Goren nodded.

"Alright, I'll authorize it. When do you want us to haul Nicole in here?"

"Give us a couple days. We need to…_rehearse_," grinned Katayeva.

"You got it, detectives."

Goren and Katyeva spent the next three days rehearsing in an interrogation room.

"Bobby, we've done some undercover as a couple. We can do this."

"It's more…uh…intense…more…intimate."

"Yeah, but I've seen your interrogation tapes. You have a definite acting talent, Bobby. I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't think the two of us could carry it off."

The two detectives went to work. They practiced those little touches that lovers do with one another. Subtle, but noticeable. Lingering just a moment too long to be casual. They worked on their eye contact. Holding each other's gaze a tad longer than necessary. Kat practiced deferring to Goren. Goren practiced protecting her, knowing full well that if he ever did this in their _real life_, she'd have kicked his ass. They learned how to sit closer to each other. They had Carolyn Barek sit opposite them, playing Nicole, giving them feedback on their actions. Then Logan sat in, sharing his opinion. Deakins observed them through the glass.

_God, they are damn good at this. If I didn't know better, I'd say something was definitely going on between Goren and Katayeva. Their behavior is very subtle, but the undercurrent is absolutely there. You can feel it in the air. You know by looking at them that they are involved. But, will Nicole Wallace see it? And how will she react? Katayeva and Eames both agree that Nicole has the hots for Goren, but he never saw it. With all due respect to Goren, I'd have to go with the women's view on this one. Women are much better at reading this kind of thing, especially in other women. Just like in high school. Some things never change.  
_

"Good morning, Goren."

Katayeva walked into Major Case right behind Goren.

"Morning."

"Ready? This is like the school play. It's a one shot deal."

"Ready as I will ever be."

"Stage fright, Goren?"

"No, I don't…uh… think so."

"Don't forget that we're doing an _overture_ out here in the squad room."

"You really think this will work, Kat?"

"No, Goren…I don't….I just did it so I could spend the last three days with your hands all over my body and gaze into your eyes."

Goren's mouth opened. Nothing came out of it. He closed his mouth.

"You are _so_ easy, Bobby," smirked Katayeva, "Of course, I think it will work. Why the hell else would I be doing this?"


	17. Show Time

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, Yo!

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chap. 17 - Show Time

Genre: Humor/Angst

Characters: Goren, Deakins, Logan, Barek

Rating: M (this chapter); sexual content; violence.

Reviews welcome.

Summary: Goren and Katayeva turn up the heat on Nicole Wallace in the interrogation room.

Friday morning, Major Case Squad Room

"OK, you two, it's show time," said Deakins, "I got the call from downstairs. Nicole Wallace just passed through security in the lobby."

Goren and Katayeva looked at each other.

"Break a leg," she mouthed to him. Goren nodded.

The plan was to let Nicole think she was observing them without their knowing it. Nicole would be given a glance of them together on her way to the interrogation room. Everything had to be subtle. Nothing obvious, nothing blatant.

Goren was his usual perfectly Armani-attired self; Katyeva had stepped up her _look_ for the occasion. Little black dress with a jacket. The jacket was off. Her shoulder holster on her right side. Katayeva was ambidextrous and could shoot with either hand. She deliberately gave the impression she was left-handed today. She had rolled out of bed extra early this morning, so she could spend time blowing-out her curly hair. Now it was straight and swingy, parted to one side, kind of falling over the left side of her face. A little more makeup than usual. Kat was attempting a look that would be guaranteed to add to their strategy against Nicole.

Mike Logan was situated over by the elevators. He rang Goren's phone twice to alert them that Nicole was now on the 11th floor.

Goren and Katayeva were standing near his desk. They were far too close to each other for normal conversation. They were chatting, smiling at each other. Katayeva did a lot of that downward glance thing. She was holding open a manila file folder. Goren's left hand was on her bare arm, unconsciously slowly stroking up and down. They were, allegedly, oblivious to Nicole's passing through the area.

It was Barek's job to watch for Nicole's reaction as she passed through the squad room on her way to interrogation. Wallace walked through quickly, but missed nothing. Nicole was now sitting alone in the interrogation room.

Barek spoke with Deakins and the two detectives.

"At first Wallace was surprised. Eyebrows raised. Then the evil grin took over. Kat, you are on her radar, like it or not. And, Bobby, she's pissed at you."

"Looks like you were right, Katayeva," said Deakins, "Now let's spring the trap and hope she jumps right into it. Logan, Barek and I will be observing."

"Let's go," said Goren.

They walked into the interrogation room. Goren had opened the door for Katayeva, allowing her to enter first. They had decided earlier that Goren would be the dominant one. Goren introduced Katayeva to Nicole. The anger he saw in Nicole's eyes surprised him.

Goren and Katayeva sat side by side. Closer than two detectives might normally sit in such a circumstance. Kat was to Goren's right. She took notes with her left hand. Per usual, she wore no wedding ring, so Nicole had no clue if she was married or not.

Nicole made some snide remark about Eames' maternity leave. Goren winced inwardly, but maintained his outward façade. Wallace asked Katayeva if she was married. Kat blushed slightly.

"My marital status isn't relevant to this investigation."

Goren grilled Nicole on issues old and new. Almost every time he spoke with Katayeva during the interrogation he put his hand lightly on her arm or her shoulder. Kat, on the other hand, looked up at him with great deference. Almost adoringly. Nicole Wallace was not a happy camper. She tore into Goren with her usual vengeance. The two of them did their tit-for-tat routine, which scorched each emotionally, but resolved nothing.

Katayeva thought that Nicole needed another little nudge. Kat put her pen down on the legal pad. She casually placed her hands in her lap. Goren kept up the chatter with Nicole. Both of his hands were on the table or gesturing. Katayeva kept her eyes forward, but moved he left hand onto Goren's right thigh.

_Jeez, I _knew_ Kat was going to do that, but it still gave me a jolt. Hopefully I disguised it enough. And Nicole saw it enough._

Nicole caught it. Recognized it. And she didn't like it. Then she tore into Katayeva. Called her a _slut…a whore._ Made an obscene comment about Katayeva's hand on Goren's thigh. Accused her of cheating on her husband. Made crude remarks about her being a better _lay _than Eames was. Ridiculed Goren for being enamored of both her and Eames. Said Goren couldn't _keep it zipped_. Screamed disparaging commentary on his sexual prowess.

Goren was nothing if not surprised. Katayeva was enjoying Nicole's performance, but watching her very carefully. Kat didn't trust her as far as she could throw her.

Goren added his own little nudge to Nicole. He told he how good Katayeva was in bed. How she came down on him. Gave great head. Nicole looked near ready to blow a blood vessel.

Katayeva was hypervigilant. Goren had pushed pretty much every button that Nicole had.

Wallace sneezed, or at least pretended to, so she could get a tissue out of her purse. Kat's right hand tightened. Her left arm was pulled back, waiting to strike, if need be.

And then she needed to. Nicole was concealing something in her tissue. Her arm was moving backwards, as if to toss or throw something. Katayeva gave Goren's chair a powerful shove with her left hand that sent him sprawling onto the floor. Meanwhile her right hand fired the weapon that she had been holding in her lap since they had sat down. As Kat was shooting, Nicole was throwing. But it was too late for Nicole Wallace. Katayeva's shot went straight through the middle of Wallace's forehead. Katayeva rolled off her chair and to her right. The vial of acid that Nicole tossed smashed against the glass behind where Goren and Katayeva had been sitting seconds before.

Deakins, Barek and Logan rushed the door, but it was already all over by the time they set foot in the room. Goren was now sitting upright on the floor. He looked at the acid running down the glass and the wall below it. He looked at Katayeva, also on the floor, a few feet away from him. And he looked at the dead body of Nicole Wallace.

"Kat, your….your weapon is uh…still in your shoulder holster," pointed out Goren.

"Yep. I used my second weapon," she replied, holding up the gun, "Removed it from my leg holster as soon as we sat down. Kept it on my lap. The shoulder holster was a fakeout."

"Pretty damn good one, too," said Deakins, "Are you both alright? I take it that was acid she flung at you. Did any of it hit either of you?"

Several drops had sprayed onto Goren's suit jacket. He took it off. Katayeva had caught a couple of drops on her leg from the splashback. Mike Logan had already grabbed the water pitcher that was on the table and kneeled down next to Katayeva's as he poured the water on her leg to dilute the acid.

Barek was already on the phone with the lab to send techs up to determine what Nicole had tossed at Goren and Katayeva. Logan helped Kat to her feet. Goren got up on his own.

"Katayeva, those burns on your leg need medical attention right now. Logan, get her to the ER."

"I…I can go with her, Captain," said Goren.

"You're not going anywhere. You have paperwork to fill out, Goren. Katayeva, your know the rules, please give me both of your weapons."

Kat was already placing both guns on the table. Before Logan could hustle her out the door, she walked up to Goren.

"Good job….partner…. We're both still alive."

Goren nodded. Put his right hand out to shake hands with her. Then changed his mind and pulled her into a bear hug.

"It's the least I can do…. now that… uh… everyone thinks we're having a …steamy affair," he whispered into her ear.

Katayeva just smacked him on the arm.

"OK, Logan, let's hit the ER."

Logan escorted Katayeva out the door, while Goren just stood there, shaking his head.

"I never…never saw it, Captain. Both Katayeva and Eames…both of them picked up on Nicole's _crush_ on me. I had no idea."

"Goren. Listen to me," said Deakins, "It wasn't a _crush_, it was an obsession. It sent her right over the edge. And how the hell did she get past security with the damn vial of acid?"

Goren was examining Wallace. "She had a pocket sewn inside her blazer, Captain…. There's a second vial in here. It's not metal. That's how she got it through security."

"Goren, you cannot investigate a crime in which you were a victim. Please back a way from the body."

"Uh…right, sir."

"Goren, you must have some other clothes in your locker. Go change. Take a shower if you want. Come back up here when you're ready. We'll need to take statements from you and Katayeva. You know the drill."

"Sure, Captain." Goren set off for his locker.

_Goren is never wrong, hates to be wrong. And he was wrong about Nicole. Christ, I never want to see a session like this one ever again. Lucky my two detectives came out of it relatively unscathed. Except for Goren's ego. That took a bigger hit than Katayeva's leg. The way he drove Nicole right over the edge….And Katayeva suppressed her equally big ego to let Wallace go ballistic on her. She never blinked no matter how raw Wallace got. And where the hell did Goren get that other stuff he said about Katayeva? I hope he's just got a real good imagination. We'll be filling out paperwork for a week on this, but we are now rid of Nicole Wallace. Fair tradeoff, as far as I'm concerned. And I'd better talk to the Chief of D's about security in this building. _

Logan drove Katayeva to St. Michael's Medical Center. He was friends with a couple of the nurses there. That would help speed them through the process.

"You're awfully cool considering you just shot and killed somebody, Kat."

"Logan, you can't see my stomach at the moment," replied Katayeva.

"Tell me, how did you know Wallace had the acid?"

"I read every file on her. She generally used unconventional weapons, rarely guns, occasionally knives, drugs, poisons. No metals would get past the detectors. So, I figured she'd have some other trick up her sleeve. I just can't imagine how she thought she was going to walk out the door after flinging acid at us."

"Maybe she didn't plan on walking out."

"Really?"

"If she had one vial, she might have had two. Or she could have something else. They'll be going over her with a fine tooth comb."

"I wasn't thinking ahead, Logan. God….I was so focused on making her react to Goren and me…..Shit."

"Hey! Don't beat up on yourself, Kat. The Commish will be giving you a medal, for crying out loud, for removing this evil woman."

Katayeva just sighed. _Thank god we've arrived at the ER._

True to his word, Logan's nurses got Katayeva through the system in just over an hour. The ER doc praised Logan's quick thinking, washing off the acid. The doc cleaned it again, applied some goopy stuff, gave her a prescription and sent her on her way.

It was only a fifteen minute ride back to One P.P., but Kat managed to doze off in the car. Logan just looked at her, shook his head. _I wonder how much of this her husband will actually hear about. 'Oh, honey, I shot and killed someone at the office this morning. She threw acid at me. And would you pass the mashed potatoes?' Never mind the conversation she and Goren had with Nicole. Oh, yeah….I'd love to see her husband's face when he heard some of that. Maybe we can rent out the tape? I'm not sure which was more interesting. What Nicole had to say or what Goren did. Wonder if Goren and Katayeva actually...Nah…I don't think so._


	18. PostMortem

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, la de dah.

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chap. 18 – _Post-Mortem_

Summary: What happens to Goren and Katayeva after the shooting._  
_

Characters: Goren, Eames, Deakins, Logan

Rating: M

Genre: Humor/Angst

Reviews welcome.

Friday afternoon. One P.P., Major Case Squad Room.

Captain James Deakins made three phone calls. The first to Detective Alex Eames. He described the morning's events leading up to the shooting of Nicole Wallace by Katayeva. He knew that Goren would probably turn to Eames for refuge. Deakins wanted her to be prepared. She thanked him for the call and promised to take care of Goren. The second call was to Katayeva's husband, Jack Kennedy. Deakins wanted to give him a heads up on what shape his wife might be in when she arrived home later today. Kennedy listened patiently, was reassured that his wife was unharmed and receiving medical care for a minor injury. Told Deakins that he would be home early to deal with his wife. When he suggested that he come to One P.P. to pick up his wife, Deakins said that Kat would then know he had called her husband. Might not go over well. Promised Kennedy to see to it Kat arrived home safe and sound. Kennedy sighed and agreed. He knew his wife. The third call was to the Chief of D's, who said he wanted to view the interrogation tape. Expressed the opinion that Nicole Wallace's death was of no great loss to the world. Said he would review the security criteria for One P.P. And requested Deakins to give a pat on the back to both Goren and Katayeva.

After Goren had showered and changed into jeans and a t-shirt, he returned to the 11th floor. Didn't notice Deakins around, so he located an empty conference room where he could phone Eames in private.

"Eames, Nicole….Nicole is dead..Katayeva…uh…she shot her. Right between the eyes."

"Whoa, Bobby! Deakins gave me a heads up that Wallace was dead, but said you'd give me the details. How is Katayeva? How are you? This must have been some interrogation."

"God…god, Eames. You have no idea….You…you and uh..Kat were right on the money about Nicole's feelings for me. I'm alright. A little acid sprayed on my jacket….the department will buy me a new one. Kat's got a couple acid droplet burns on her leg. Logan was quick-thinking and poured water over it immediately to dilute the acid. They're not back from the ER yet."

"Bobby, I want you to come right over to my place after work. I'll have dinner ready. You can talk if you want. Or you can just chill. Whatever you need."

"That sounds real good, Eames. I …. I appreciate it. See you later."

Eames turned on her laptop and shot an email to the Captain, advising him that Goren would be with her after work. Deakins was relieved.

As Goren came out of the conference room he heard the sounds of Logan and Katayeva's voices. He rounded the corner and saw Kat dressed in grey sweat pants and a USMA sweat shirt. She was sitting on top of her desk, legs crossed Indian style. She looked….OK. A little pale, but OK.

"Hey, Kat. What'd the doctor say?"

"He said I'm fine. Logan's quick action kept it from being much worse."

Logan modestly brushed off the thanks and praise.

"That was _some_ interrogation, you two. I can't believe I never saw you take that gun out of your leg holster, Kat," said Mike, shaking his head.

"That's because my back was to you," grinned Katayeva.

"I…I umm …never saw the second gun, either. And I was right next to you," sighed Goren.

"Bobby, you were preoccupied. You were doing your job brilliantly. I depended on you to focus on Wallace," said Kat, placing her hand on Goren's arm, "You weren't supposed to be looking at me."

Before Goren could reply, Logan smirked, "Yeah, Bobby boy. You were busy describing Katayeva's, ahhh, _talents_ in the boudoir. And when she put her hand on your leg, I'm surprised you could remember your name."

Goren and Kat glanced at each other as they both turned pink….Bobby started to apologize to her…

"Goren, listen to me. You have nothing to apologize for. The whole thing was an act."

Logan rolled his eyes. Katayeva smacked him.

"Thanks for your help, Mike, and for the trip to the ER."

"Any time."

Deakins approached carrying two file folders. He handed one each to Goren and Kat.

"OK, you two. Start filling out the case paperwork. Kat, you know you have extra since you discharged your weapon."

"Yes, sir," chorused the two detectives. They sat down at their desks and started on the pile of paper.

"Goren?"

He looked up at Kat, eyebrows raised.

"Are you alright? You've been dealing with Wallace for a couple of years. And I doubt that this is the way you expected it to end. I know that there is a certain _relationship_ between long term adversaries, Bobby."

Goren sighed. Thought for a minute.

"No…this is …uh…definitely not the ending I ever imagined. I …I feel bad that you….you got caught in the middle of it, Kat. None of us ever likes to fire our weapon, let alone kill someone. That shouldn't have fallen on you."

"What, Goren? It's not _my battle_? Or are you upset that you didn't get to pull the trigger?"

"I…I'm not sure. I'm going to have to….to sort it out in my mind."

"Think away," she sighed.

Two hours later the detectives had completed every scrap of paperwork. Deakins accepted the forms and ordered them to go home…now.

Goren told Deakins that he was going to have dinner with Eames. The Captain patted him on the shoulder and sent him on his way. Then he had an officer drive Katayeva home. The officer reported back that her husband had opened the front door when they arrived and enveloped the detective in his arms. Deakins pinched the bridge of his nose and downed two more _Advil™ _with some cold coffee. _I should buy these in bulk. Alright, my detectives are both OK. Eames will nursemaid Goren tonight. Kennedy will take care of his wife. Thank god we have the weekend to recover from this._

Goren arrived at Eames' apartment. When she opened the door, Goren just fell into her arms and held on for dear life. She finally got him to the sofa. Goren stretched out with his head in her lap. He talked. He was silent. Eames just stroked his head gently with one hand, her other hand resting over his heart. They were on the sofa for over an hour before they got up to eat dinner. Eames had picked up comfort food. Homemade (from the gourmet takeout place) chicken noodle soup, fresh baked bread, mixed greens salads. Homemade peanut butter cookies for dessert. When they finally made it to the table, Goren ate like a horse. He suddenly realized he never had any lunch. The food was delicious.

After dinner they turned the TV on toan _X-Files_ re-run. Bobby and Alex sat on the floor. Alex sat with her back up against the sofa, her legs spread. Bobby sat between her legs, leaning his head back against her. She stroked his arms, his head, rubbed his shoulders. After several hours of television, Alex told Bobby it was time for bed. He nodded and got up to leave. Alex stopped him.

"You're not going to be alone tonight, Goren, you are staying here."

He nodded gratefully and made for her sofa.

"Nope, come with me," said Eames softly. She took his hand and led him to her bedroom. Bobby looked at her.

"We won't be doing anything _interesting_ here, Bobby. I just gave birth, remember? Now, lose the jeans."

He nodded and took off his jeans, so that he was wearing his boxers and t-shirt. Spooned Eames, his arm curled around her waist. Pulled the quilt over them. Mumbled _goodnight._ Bobby was asleep in a flash. Alex relaxed into his hold and joined him in dreamland.

Similar behavior took place at the Katayeva/Kennedy household. Jack Kennedy had farmed their two children out to one of Katayeva's brothers overnight. He had a similar takeout dinner waiting for his wife. A bubble bath for two, so he could massage away the tension in her shoulders. Jack and Kat spooned in bed also. The bubble bath had relaxed her enough that she fell asleep almost immediately. He pulled up the coverlet over them. Then buried his face in her hair, trying to inhale her. _Thank you, God, that she is alright._

At 9 a.m. Jack's two sisters arrived to take Kat to their favorite day spa. She went without protest, much to Jack's relief. He was surprised when the phone rang a half hour later. Even more surprised that it was Detective Goren on the line.

"She's gone for the day."

"Gone?"

"My sisters took her to the day spa. It's very relaxing. Just what she needs right now."

"Oh…"

"Detective Goren…."

"Please..uh…call me Bobby."

"Bobby. Can you meet me for lunch? I'd really like to talk to you."

"Umm…sure…where?"

"How about Carapelli's in the Village? Noon?"

"That's fine. I've been there. See you later then."

Bobby Goren and Jack Kennedy had no trouble recognizing each other. They were the two biggest guys in the restaurant. The blonde beach boy with the blue eyes and the curly dark haired, chocolate eyed bear. They shook hands, both refraining from the usual big guy hand crushing contest. Neither had anything to prove.

The waitress took their orders for pasta and red wine.

"How is Kat feeling?" asked Goren.

"She'll be OK. We had a relaxing evening last night. Today at the spa she'll do some yoga, EFT, get a massage, they'll do acupuncture for the acid burns."

"EFT? What is EFT?"

"Emotional Freedom Technique™. It's a spinoff of Roger Callahan's Thought Form Therapy™. We've both been using it for a couple of years. Very effective with emotional stress and trauma."

"Is this the first time that ….uh…she's had to shoot someone? Killed them?"

"No. It's happened a couple of times since she's on the force. Not sure about when she's in the military. She's not allowed to talk about it. Now, Detective, what can you tell me about the woman she shot?"

"One word. Evil. Has killed several people that we know of. She's been a thorn in my side, in the side of the NYPD, for a few years."

"Can you tell me exactly what happened in that interrogation room yesterday?"

Goren sighed. Then he provided Jack Kennedy with a detailed description of what transpired. Including the actions between himself and Kat and his conversation with Nicole. He made it clear they were playing a part.

"If Kat hadn't realized Nicole had something hidden in the tissue, the two of us could've been doused in the face with acid."

Kennedy shuddered momentarily. Rubbed his temples with his fingers.

"You're not married, are you, Bobby?"

"No. Never."

"It is the most difficult thing you can do. My wife is the best thing that ever happened to me. But we have to negotiate the mine field of options. Who does what and when. Most of all, her job. She won't give it up and I won't give her up. I can handle it pretty well, until something like this happens. If I ever demanded that she quit her job and do something else, she'd kick my ass to the curb. That was the agreement we made when we got married. That I would never ask her to give up her work. I bite my tongue on a regular basis, Bobby."

"I'm not…uh..always so good at that."

"You learn. Marriage is also the best thing I've ever done. I look at Mack and Katie and I just can't believe they're mine. That she's my wife. That she chose me, when she could have had any other man in the world. When you wake up next to the same woman every morning. Bobby, it's a good thing. You know that she is there for you. It's kind of like your job. You've got her back and she's got yours. You're partners."

"That's what partners do."

"Oh, by the way. Do you shoot better than you drive? My wife said you're a menace behind the wheel."

Goren just laughed.

"Yeah, I shoot a lot better than I drive. My regular partner always drives. That way we actually get to where we're going in one piece."

The big guys enjoyed an amiable lunch. Shook hands at the end of it. Went their separate ways. Each considering the other one's connection to the same woman.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Note: USMA sweatshirt – United States Military Academy (West Point)


	19. Back to Work

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf is the master of the universe.

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chapter 19 – Back to Work

Characters: Goren, Eames, Deakins

Rating: T

Reviews welcome.

Other than his lunch with Katayeva's husband, Bobby Goren spent most of his weekend with Alex Eames. What had someone once called her? _Touchstone of a genius?_ She was his rock, his security blanket, his tether to reality. Eames spent the weekend making Goren feel normal, feel safe. When he dozed off on her sofa in the middle of the afternoon, Eames gently placed an afghan over him. She saw to it that he ate nutritious food and made sure that alcohol was _not_ a part of this weekend. They strolled in the park. Had a picnic on her living room rug. Eames massaged his neck, his shoulders, his hands, his feet. She played soothing music softly in the background. They spooned in her bed. Goren responded well to all her ministrations, soaking them up as the desert does water. Eames was just grateful she could help him.

When Goren and Katayeva arrived at One P.P. on the following Monday, the Captain advised that they would both be receiving special citations from the Mayor and the Police Commissioner at an upcoming City Hall ceremony. Neither detective gave a rat's ass about citations and awards. _Just let me do my job and stay the hell out of my way._ But they nodded politely to Deakins and participated in the obligatory conference call with the Chief of D's and the Commissioner. 

"Deakins needs to open the windows in his office…let out all the hot air from that call," mumbled Katayeva, as they walked back to their desks.

A momentary smile flickered across Goren's face.

Both detectives had individual sessions with NYPD shrinks that afternoon. Dr. Emil Skoda met with Katayeva; Dr. Elizabeth Olivet with Goren. The two shrinks then compared notes. They attributed Katayeva's quick recovery to her lack of history with Wallace and to her self-use of the Emotional Freedom Technique. Goren was better than they had expected. This was attributed to Eames' attention. Goren would be re-visited to make sure he continued to progress favorably. Both doctors advised Captain Deakins to assign the duo to a case as soon as possible. They needed to be busy. And they especially wanted Goren to focus on something other than Wallace. Fortunately, there was never a shortage of new investigations rolling into Major Case.

Deakins wanted to assign Goren and Katayeva to a case where it would be extremely unlikely that either would have to draw their weapon. The perfect case fell into his lap. The death of the wife of a police captain in Queens. Caroline Martin, 53 year old wife of Captain Raymond Martin, was found in her car in her driveway. It appeared that she had died of heat suffocation. The car was closed up, but not locked. Mrs. Martin had apparently returned from the local supermarket with three bags of groceries. The victim's right hand was grasping the bag handles as though pulling it towards her. The driver's bucket seat was flipped forward as far as it would go, effectively pushing Martin's forehead into the steering wheel. Her purse was in her lap, the shoulder strap hanging down between the seat and the door, caught around the seat's release lever. The victim was discovered by her husband when he arrived home around 9 p.m. Deakins received the call from the Chief of D's and immediately contacted Goren and Katayeva to head over to the crime scene. He'd have preferred not to send his detectives out at night after they had put in a full day, especially one with two small children, but it couldn't be helped.

Katayeva arrived first, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, denim jacket and sneakers; Goren arrived minutes later in similar attire. Both had their badges clipped to their waistband. The two detectives expressed their condolences to the obviously distraught Captain Martin. Fortunately the Police Commissioner's office had sent over another captain who was a longtime friend of Martin's. He managed to keep Martin from contaminating the scene.

"Murder, suicide, accident, natural death," enumerated Katayeva, "Those would be our choices."

"Captain Martin said that all he did was check for a pulse in her neck," admitted Goren, "No pulse and body already cool to touch."

The two detectives had turned on Martin's outdoor floodlights. At first glance they noted that the woman's purse strap had caught on the seat lever and it had slammed her forward, shoving her head into the steering wheel.

"Temperature was high eighties, low nineties today. Inside a closed car it could reach one hundred and twenty or above," said Katayeva, as she laid her palm on the car's hood, "Cool, but god knows how long it's been here."

Goren nodded and then they were both doing their sniffing/touching/poking/prodding thing. The attending uniforms and forensics were standing around rolling their eyes. Neither detective gave a damn.

Goren reached over and turned the key in the ignition. The car sprang to life. Nothing was _on_, no radio, air conditioner, CD player. Goren turned on the radio to see what station she listened to. It was an oldies station. Popped open the CD player. Empty. No CDs in the car. The electronic windows worked easily. He carefully looked over the victim without moving her.

Meanwhile Kat was on the passenger side, inspecting the grocery bags. There were three. One had a receipt with a date and time stamp. Mrs. Martin had checked out of the market at 11:17 a.m. Glove box contained only the car's manual along with valid registration and insurance card. Both front sun visors had mirrors. Nothing else tucked in either one. The back seat contained an umbrella, an ice scraper, and a couple out-of-date supermarket flyers. They popped the trunk. Found a spare tire, jack, the usual.

Katayeva nodded at Goren, who then turned to the forensics team, giving them the OK to begin their job.

"We need to determine when she arrived home," said Goren.

"Well, the supermarket address is about a mile and a half from here. The bags contain cheese, cold cuts and containers of yogurt. No housewife with half a brain would cart perishables around in a hot car. She'd drive straight home.We should certainly still investigate to see if she made any post-market pit stops, but I'm inclined to doubt it."

The forensics team dusted for prints, photographed from every conceivable angle, tested for evidence of illegal drugs, etc. Then they evidence-bagged the purse, keys, the flyers, ice scraper, the groceries. M.E. Rogers put in an appearance. Her current best guess at cause of death was heat stroke. ..until she got the body on the table.

Goren pulled out his cell phone, called Deakins with an update. Then he and Katayeva headed back to their respective homes, knowing they were not expected to be in the office until noon.

It was around 12:30 a.m. when each made it home. Goren just flopped on his bed, so exhausted he fell asleep immediately. Katayeva quietly tiptoed into her house, reset the alarms, undressed and slipped into bed next to her husband, Jack. He didn't seem to wake up, but he did sense her presence, rolling over so he could snuggle up with her. Both were sound asleep in minutes.

Next Day, One Police Plaza.

"You've got a husband and two kids to deal with," said an unshaven Goren, rubbing his eyes, "How come you look better than I do?"

"Because I slept straight through until nearly 10 a.m. Jack woke up before the alarm went off, reset it for me, kept the kids out of our room, fed everyone breakfast, got them dressed and dropped off at school," replied Katayeva.

"Oh…"

"You need…..a husband. Or a wife. Or a something, Bobby." _Hmmm, I was hoping he had gone to Eames' apartment, but apparently not. Too bad._

Kat rose from her desk, walked around to Goren, leaned over his shoulder.

"Why didn't you go to Eames'?" she asked softly, "Partners do that, you know."

Bobby took a deep breath, held it and then exhaled.

"It….uh…it was so late…I …I didn't want to …disturb her."

"If I phoned Eames right now and told her why you didn't go to her, what do you think she'd do?"

"Kick my ass," snorted Goren.

"Deservedly so," smirked Katayeva.

"What…umm, what do you do…when Jack isn't there? If you don't mind my asking…"

"I think our dogs are psychic. If Jack is traveling, one of the dogs is on my bed at night. When I was in Afghanistan, one was always with Jack at night. The other dog always lays in the hallway by the kids' bedrooms. Boris and Natasha seem to change off between the kids and the adults. Not sure how they decide who guards whom."

"And your partners?"

"Oh, Ben LoMonaco has stayed over at our house many times. Sofa bed in the family room. And one of the dogs will go to him."

"Jack doesn't mind?"

"As long as Ben's not in bed with us, no," laughed Kat, "Mack and Katie think Ben's part of the family, Bobby. Just like you and Eames are _family_."

Goren just nodded.

Moments later Captain Deakins was standing next to their desks.

"Goren, you look like crap," said Deakins, "What the hell happened?"

"Uh…we've already established that, Captain," said Bobby.

"And how is it you look bright eyed, Katayeva?"

"I have a husband who pampers me. I slept in until 10 a.m. Breakfast was waiting on the kitchen table. I told Goren he needs a husband…or a wife."

Deakins raised his eyebrows, looked a Goren. Goren just shrugged.

"Goren, if you haven't eaten yet, do so now. We don't need you dropping from hunger. Then you two head over to the M.E.'s."

Bobby and Kat hit a local deli/diner. Kat ordered a BLT and Goren, pastrami.

"No, he won't be having the pastrami. Make it a turkey club," said Katayeva.

Goren looked at her.

"You're already exhausted. Pastrami gives you heartburn. Bad idea," whispered Kat, "I depend on you to be functioning one hundred percent, _partner_."

Goren sighed. Looked up at the waitress.

"Turkey club is fine."

"And we'll each have the mesclun salad," added Katayeva.

The waitress nodded and left.

"Jeez, you're worse than my mother," hissed Bobby.

"Do I dare ask when some fresh vegetables last passed your lips?"

"How…how does Jack stand you?"

"Jack knows that when he eats right and takes care of his health, then he has plenty of energy for …..other activities," grinned Kat, "Instead of getting heartburn from eating something guaranteed to make you miserable. For a supposedly brilliant guy, Bobby, why do you treat yourself so poorly?"

Goren's elbows were on the table, his chin rested in his left hand. Rubbed his face with his right hand.

"Truce."

"Truce?"

"Change the subject...to, uh…something other than me."

"Gee, you're one of my favorite subjects," chuckled Katayeva.

Goren shot her a look. Katayeva just rolled her eyes.

"You have not yet figured out that I am not intimidated by your size, your intellect or your expressions, have you?"

"It was worth a try," sighed Goren.

"Save it for the perps, Goren," Kat snorted a laugh.

Their food arrived. Both detectives dug in. Goren was ravenous. This was his first meal of the day. He gobbled his salad and every crumb of his sandwich.

"How about some nice fresh fruit salad for dessert?"

"No pie? That …uh…has fruit."

"Fresh fruit, Bobby." She told the waitress to bring two fresh fruit salads.

Goren nearly inhaled his serving.

"Mmm…that was reallay good."

"It's been so long since you ate real food, that you're actually surprised that it's good."

Goren looked sheepish.

As they left the diner Kat picked up two apples from the fruit bowl and paid for them.

"Afternoon snack."

Location: The Medical Examiner's Office

Goren and Katayeva were pulling on the latex gloves as they walked in the door. Dr. Rogers looked up as the pair approached.

"Good afternoon, detectives."

"Dr. Rogers, what can you tell us?"

"Caroline Martin, age 53, cause of death still looks like heat stroke in a closed car. However, there are other factors in play here."

Goren raised his eyebrows at Rogersm, as he circled the body like a predator. Katayeva was circling in the opposite direction. _I wonder if they'll walk into each other?_

"Mrs. Martin had cancer surgery about two years ago. Underwent chemo/radiation. But the cancer returned and was spreading. I already spoke with her oncologist at Sloan Kettering this morning. She had a life expectancy of six months. So far it had not disrupted her life and activities, but it was certainly coming."

"And Mrs. Martin knew this information?"

"Yes, according to her oncologist."

Goren and Katayeva examined Mrs. Martin's forehead, which was bruised from hitting the steering wheel. Nothing else remarkable about the body.

"Tox screen negative except for a dose of ibuprofen. A dose being two tablets. Certainly can't kill yourself on that."

"I consider ibuprofen the best pain relieve ever invented. I'll bet that's what she was using it for. And it doesn't have the side effects of those prescriptions that turn you into a zombie," observed Katayeva.

"I would guess she was in some pain," said Rogers.

"Would you classify this as a suicide, Dr. Rogers?" asked Goren.

"Not based on what I have here, even with the cancer info. It would take more than that for me to make that call. Suicide must be very definitive. It has a major effect on the decedent's family emotionally. It can even effect their finances, if life insurance benefits are denied due to suicide."

Goren and Katayeva just nodded. They knew that whatever the rest of the story was, it's their job to figure it out.

As they left the M.E.'s Goren made an involuntary shake-off movement. Katayeva caught it.

"You got that right. We are walking into a soap opera. There is nothing simple about this."

"I feel a headache coming on," said Goren, rubbing his forehead.

"I got the _Advil_™," said Katayeva, pulling a small plastic bottle from her purse.


	20. Stuck on the Fence

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, blah blah blah

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chapter 20 – Stuck on the Fence

Characters: Goren, Eames, Deakins

Rating: T

Reviews welcome.

Goren and Katayeva returned to their office after lunch and the visit to the Medical Examiner. They had a folder full of papers with test results from Dr. Rogers. And they were compiling a list of family/friends/co-workers of the late Caroline Martin, when Captain Deakins approached.

"I got a news flash for you two," sighed Deakins, "Apparently Mrs. Martin never told anyone that her cancer had returned."

"Define _anyone_," said Katayeva.

"Her husband, her kids, her sister, her friends. The husband only found out when I had to give him a courtesy call re the M.E.'s report. That was swell."

Goren scrubbed his face, "I was afraid of this."

"Do you think Rogers is leaning towards declaring a suicide?" asked Deakins.

"No," chorused the two detectives.

"Uh, she made is clear she didn't have enough to make that call," continued Goren.

"Figure it out. And don't forget this is the wife of an NYPD captain."

Both detectives nodded.

Goren leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling, tapping his fingers on his chair's armrest. Katayeva could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. She kept her silence and continued with the list they had started before Deakins' announcement. Kat also started a second list, not of people but of _things._ Finally Goren sat up straight, looking in her direction.

"No, you can't have more _Advil™_, you just had two after lunch," said Katayeva, as she removed the bottle from her purse, locking it in her bottom drawer, "I can make you a cup of tea, if you'd like."

_Hmph…when did she become a mind reader? Must be channeling Eames._

Goren nodded affirmatively for the tea. Kat headed for the kitchenette and returned with two steaming mugs of _Tension Tamer_ _Extra_™. Goren attempted to drink his immediately and let out a yelp when he burned his tongue.

"The steam was a clue," sighed Katayeva, but she got up and headed back to the kitchenette again. Returned with a paper towel in her hand. Leaned over Goren and placed an ice cube in his hot tea and then put one in her own mug. Bobby watched the cube melt and then stuck his finger in the tea to make sure it wasn't too hot.

Kat just rolled her eyes, "You do that when you are out on a date with a woman?"

"What?"

"Stick your finger in the tea?"

"Uh…not usually."

"That's a relief."

Bobby just looked at her with a silly grin.

"Alright, _detective_. Where do you want to start on this? Questioning the husband and kids? Neighbors? Friends and co-workers? View the supermarket videotape? Get a search warrant for the house --- yes? No? Give me a hint here, Bobby."

"We're gonna have to ask Deakins about a search warrant. This is very touchy. But we can start with the supermarket video."

Goren pulled a video cassette out of a large manila envelope and waved it at Kat. They walked into an equipment room with a VCR. Caroline Martin entered the supermarket at 10:44 a.m. The two detectives studied her expression and body language repeatedly. Then they watched her at the checkout, chatting with the cashier, leaving the store at 11:17 a.m.

"I hope you're seeing something I'm not, Bobby," sighed Katayeva, "She looks like the happy homemaker. Doesn't look like she's on her way to a suicide…god, I hope this isn't a homicide."

"You think it's a homicide?"

"Not yet. Not seeing anything pointing us in that direction, but we can't rule it out yet. We are missing was too many pieces of this puzzle to even make a guess here."

"We need to speak to Deakins."

Kat nodded and the two of them walked into the Captain's office.

"Come in, detectives. I can guess this concerns Mrs. Martin."

"We want to be sensitive, but we need to find the pieces to put together the puzzle," said Katayeva.

"How do you feel about a search warrant for the home and any computers or electronic storage media in the home, Captain?" asked Goren.

"What are you two looking for?"

"A suicide note, should one exist, doesn't have to be on paper. It can be on audio tape, video tape, or digital. Stored on a computer, a media storage device, a camera or even an _iPod™_."

By this time Deakins was massaging his temples.

"OK, Captain," said Goren, "How much does the NYPD want the truth on this? You can sign off on what we found at the scene the other night. Looks like an accident. We can move on to the next investigation."

"Is there any chance this is a homicide?" asked Deakins.

"We don't have enough info to even speculate on the subject," replied Katayeva.

"Captain, we cannot investigate from a distance. We either do it or we don't. Your call."

"I have to conference this with upstairs, detectives. I'll get back to you tomorrow morning," sighed Deakins, "Why don't you two take the rest of the day off?"

"See you in the morning, Captain."

When they got back to their desks Kat tossed Goren his apple, "Afternoon snack."

Bobby was already biting into the apple. He tried to say something, but had too much in his mouth.

"I think I can make my son's cub scout meeting and lend a hand. What are you going to do with this free time?"

"I think I'll pick up some dinner and take it over to Eames'."

"Sounds like a plan," nodded Kat, "See you in the morning, Bobby," as she headed for the elevators.

Goren called Eames. Said he'd bring over Thai dinner. She was delighted.

Bobby stopped home to shower and change into sweats. Picked up the Thai food and really surprised Eames with a fresh fruit salad for dessert. They relaxed over dinner. Goren brought her up to date on Major Case. Eames sympathized with Goren .

"The Martin case is whatever the brass wants to make of it. You and Katayeva can only do what they will allow you to. You know how it is, Bobby."

"Yeah," sighed Goren.

"This fresh fruit salad is delicious. And healthy. Great idea, Bobby."

Goren just smiled.

The pair cuddled up on the sofa under an afghan. Watched _Sherlock Holmes_ on PBS. And went to bed early. Sleeping in Eames' bed pretty much guaranteed Goren a good night's sleep. She always seemed to be able to drive his demons away.

Alex and Bobby fell asleep cuddled up together under her floral quilt.

_Katayeva's not the only one with somebody to take good care of her. I have Eames._


	21. Moving Forward

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, la dee dah 

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chap. 21 – Moving Forward

Characters: Goren, Eames, Deakins,

Rating: K+

Next morning, Major Case Squad.

Captain Deakins was in early. Even earlier than Goren. Deakins had had his conference with the brass upstairs. They had actually spoken to Captain Raymond Martin, husband of the deceased. Martin insisted he wanted a full investigation into his wife's death. Volunteered full cooperation and access to his home and possessions. It was now up to Goren and Katayeva to investigate and bring this thing to a close. Deakins informed the two detectives as soon as they arrived.

"Step into it, detectives," ordered their Captain, "I want this thing wrapped up and put to bed as soon as possible."

Goren and Katayeva glanced at each other.

"The case is gonna go where it's gonna go, sir."

"That's fine. Just figure it out and get it off your plate."

"Got it, Captain."

At 9 a.m. they drove over to the Martin home. Captain Raymond Martin answered the door, already dressed in NYPD sweats, hair still damp as though he just had a shower. There were circles under his eyes and a mug of coffee in his hand. He waved the detectives into the living room.

Once again Goren expressed their condolences. Martin nodded.

"They won't release Caroline's body for burial until this is settled. Once Captain Deakins told me about her cancer recurring and I spoke to her doctor at Sloan Kettering, I realized that I don't know what happened at all. Figure it out. Just tell me the truth." The words came out in a rush, as though his voice would run out of steam before he finished.

Goren and Katayeva started with Raymond Martin's activities the day of his wife's death. He provided a detailed schedule, which they would have to verify. Martin understood that. Then he showed them the two computers he owned, a desktop and a laptop.

"We'll have to take these back to our tech lab," advised Katayeva, "Do you own a video camera, digital camera, MP3 player, PDA, cassette recorder, _iPod™_, or any other type of digital media storage or recording device, Captain Martin?"

Martin opened the top drawer of his wife's bureau and waved the detectives over. Goren pulled out a digital camera, a video camera and an _iPod™_ -- the model with the video screen.

"Did your wife keep a journal or diary?"

"Not that I know of."

"Photograph albums? Scrapbook?" asked Kat.

Martin walked into another room, motioning them to follow. It was a guest room, with a wall of bookcases. Must have contained thirty or forty albums. They started on what appeared to be the most recent. They found a scrapbook/album. A younger picture of Caroline Martin was in the cover photo slot. The entire album was her. From baby pictures to the most recent pix with her family at Easter. Contained her high school diploma, college sheepskins, grade transcripts, movie/theatre tickets, school IDs, old passport, old driver's licenses and car registrations.

"We're going to have to take this also, Captain," said Goren, "It will all be returned."

Martin nodded wearily.

"Do you have an answering machine?"

Martin pointed to it. Goren hit the _play_ button. All the messages were from after Mrs. Martin's death.

"Were there any messages on here the night you found her?"

"I don't think so. I haven't deleted anything. Caroline always dealt with the answering machine."

Katayeva hit the _greeting_ button. They listed to Caroline Martin's voice giving a generic leave a message greeting. No hint of trouble in her voice.

"Did you find any kind of note that she left?"

"Nothing."

"Was your wife taking any medications? Prescription or non-prescritption?"

"She took thyroid daily and a calcium supplement. They're in the basket on the kitchen counter."

"Where did your wife work?"

"She's a librarian. Queens County public library, Astoria branch."

"We'd like to speak with your children. Are they here?"

"They came in late last night. Let me see if I can wake them."

Martin went up a flight of stairs and they could hear voices as he woke his kids.

"We have to visit her library, Kat."

"Yeah, check her work computer and all the public computers, if need be. That's going to go over well."

A few minutes later Martin reappeared with his son and daughter in tow, dressed in the sweats they had slept in. They had the same circles under their eyes. And no information of any value to offer.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Captain. I have to remind you that we will be taking a thorough look at your finances, speaking with your friends and neighbors."

"I don't like it, detective, but I understand it. I know the drill."

"One last question, sir. Can you think of anyone would might want to harm your wife?"

Martin looked surprised.

"Uh…no. Not at all."

"We'll be in touch, sir. Thank you for your cooperation."

The two detectives put all the stuff they had gathered in the back of the Chevy Blazer, then drove back to One P.P.

"Well, that went better than I expected," commented Kat.

Goren just nodded. He was quiet on the ride back, leaning his seat back, closing his eyes. Katayeva recognized that her partner was thinking and left him to it. She just concentrated on getting them back safely.

Back at One P.P.

"OK, what's the scoop?" asked Deakins.

"The evidence clerks downstairs are logging in all the stuff we took. Primarily electronics, computers," explained Goren, "According to Captain Martin there was no suicide note. Everything should be up here by the time we return from lunch."

"Eat hearty. You're gonna need it," as Deakins strode back into his office.

"You heard the boss," said Kat, "Let's get some lunch. We need brain food. Lots of it."

Goren nodded and the duo headed out to a local diner. As the detectives read over the menu, Kat caught Bobby looking at her.

"If you order pastrami, I'll have to shoot you," warned Katayeva, giving Goren a _look._

"God, you are a pain in the ass," snickered Goren.

"Sure beats a pain in your chest, Mr. Heartburn."

"How's a cheeseburger and French fries?"

"You enjoy defiling your body, don't you?" grinned Kat.

Goren just rolled his eyes.

"Can you ditch the fries? A major high glycemic food, guaranteed to make you blood sugar skyrocket, then crash. Plus it's deep fried, heaven forbid. How about a nice mixed greens salad? And a side of ratatouille?"

"Ratatouille? The mixed vegetables with the eggplant and stuff?"

"You actually know what it is? Amazing. But will you eat it?"

"Sure….uh, what are you having?"

"Asian sesame salmon stir fry and the salad. Brain food."

"At least you practice what you preach," sighed Goren.

"Did you think I was ordering the Southern fried chicken and hush puppies?" snorted Kat.

"A man can hope," grinned Bobby, "Maybe I could've stolen some of it off your plate."

The waitress took their orders.

"Any opinions on where this Martin thing is headed, Goren?"

"My uh….crystal ball is on the fritz."

"So that is the secret of your success….a crystal ball? And all this time I thought you just pulled 'em out of a top hat," laughed Katayeva,

Their food arrived. The detectives chowed down. Goren ate every morsel on his plate. Speared some of Kat's salmon, too, to give it a try. They had fresh fruit salad again for dessert.

"Back to the sweat shop," said Katayeva.

Everything they had taken from the Martin household was now in a conference room. Kat took off her blazer, hung it on the back of her desk chair. Goren removed his suit jacket, did the same, rolled up his shirt sleeves, took off his tie. Both were surprised when they glanced at the other.

"Great minds think alike," chuckled Goren.

"Or we just know enough to get comfortable because we're gonna be here a long time."

"I prefer my version."

The two detectives got down to business in the conference room. Goren took the desktop computer, Katayeva the laptop. The techies had already provided the necessary hookups to run everything.

" Shit…There's a couple of software programs on the laptop that destroy the user's tracks. _Window Washer™_ erases your Internet history, address bar, cache, cookies. _Hard Disk Scrubber™_ permanently deletes deleted files so they cannot be recovered. Both are set to run automatically every day. If Caroline Martin didn't deliberately leave it on here, we won't be seeing it."

"Those two programs are on this pc also," sighed Goren.

"We can still view the browser's bookmarks. There are two browsers on here, _Internet Explorer_ and _Firefox._"

They viewed the bookmarks. The Queens Public Library home page, police associations, law enforcement journals, their bank and investment companies, other libraries, assorted electronic databases/subscriptions, librarian associations, etc. Nothing re suicide.

They examined every file created with Microsoft Office™ programs. Recipes, copies of web forms, motor vehicle online registration form, Christmas card list, gift list, wireless manual, digital camera manual, law enforcement articles. Nothing of value.

They checked the My Pictures files. The laptop contained photos from a television show, one of those popular detective programs. Lots of photos of the star plus the other actors, all in character.

"Any photos of Vincent D'Onofrio on the other pc?" asked Katayeva.

"D'Onofrio? That hammy actor from the unrealistic cop show? Nope, not here. Only a some pix of the kids, vacations, someone's first communion, a wedding."

"Mrs. Martin apparently was a big fan. There's nearly a hundred pictures of him on her laptop. Her screensaver is a slideshow of the collection."

"No accounting for taste," snorted Goren.

"I think he's cute," grinned Kat, "He has that big cuddly teddy bear quality. Women love that."

Goren pretended to gag himself by putting two fingers down his throat. Katayeva just laughed.

"Glad you two find this case so amusing," said Deakins, now standing in the doorway.

"Apparently Caroline Martin had a thing for a TV detective," said Goren.

"Define _had a thing_."

"There are over a hundred photos of the guy on her laptop. She used them for her screensaver, running as a slide show," added Katayeva.

"Was she stalking him? Having an affair with him?"

"We have no reason to think that."

Deakins just threw up his hands and walked back to his office.

Goren and Katayeva went through every file on the two computers. Came up with zilch.

Kat stood up and stretched.

"Snack time," she said as she tossed a large red apple to her partner.

"You're like a walking supermarket, Kat. You've always got food."

"You're like a walking teenage boy. You'll eat anything that crosses your path."

"I am a growing boy," grinned Goren.

Katayeva just rolled her eyes.

"I already ordered all the financials, and insurance info," said Goren, "Printed out the property records, law suits and news articles from _Westlaw_™."

"OK, you start reading. I'm trying another angle."

Goren raised his eyebrows at her. She shrugged and continued tapping on the laptop's keyboard.

"The Martins are very comfortable financially. He's been on the force for over thirty years. Nice pension, 401-k's, IRA's. They've invested wisely. Both kids nailed some scholarship money for college. She's been a librarian for ten years. Her life insurance through work is only double her salary, just over one hundred thousand. He has plenty of money. Doesn't need to kill her for insurance. Mortgage is paid off. Cars are paid for, credit cards always paid in full each billing cycle. No other debt. No evidence of gambling or drug use for either of them," rattled off Bobby.

"In spite of our cardinal rule, sometimes it's not about money or sex," observed Kat.

"No withdrawals from any accounts. Joint checking account was handled by the wife. Just a repetition of their usual monthly bills. Nothing funky on the credit cards," added Goren, gesturing with his left hand, "If either one of them has a lover, they sure aren't spending any money on her or him."

Katayeva looked at her watch. Ten of five.

"My eyes are crossed. How about you?"

Goren's elbows were resting on the table, his chin on his right hand. He let out a sigh.

"That's what I thought. Let's pick this up tomorrow a.m."

Goren nodded and the two of them walked back to their desks. Deakins caught them.

"Well?"

"We'll resume first thing in the morning, Captain."

"Good night, detectives."

"So, what were you looking for while I was doing the financials?" asked Goren as they headed to the elevators.

"Not sure," grinned Katayeva, "Haven't found it yet. I need to think about it. Just like...you do. I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Fair enough," granted Goren.

That evening at the Kennedy/Katayeva household.

The kids were in asleep. Kat and her husband were in bed, each with their laptop. He was researching Asian bond market offerings; she was reading fiction online.

_I wonder if Caroline Martin ever wrote any of this stuff. Jeez, there are thousands of stories in the archives of that show D'Onofrio's on. Don't these people have lives? Jobs? Where do the get the time to write this stuff? Twenty chapters. Forty chapters. At least there's a summary for each story. God help me if I had to read through all this stuff._

Kat read through about fifty summaries before quitting for the night. As soon as she closed her laptop, her husband took his cue and shut his also. He picked up both laptops and placed them on the bureau. Returned to bed, turned out the light, cuddled up with his wife. She barely whispered _good night._ Exhaustion had set in. Kat was asleep in minutes.

That evening at Eames' apartment.

"So, Bobby, she's got an idea and hasn't shared it with you yet?"

"Yeah."

"How does it feel to be on the outside looking in?"

"Huh? What?"

"I spend a lot of time trying to figure out what is going on in your head. Serves you right to have the tables turned on you for a change," chuckled Eames, as they spooned under her floral cotton quilt.

"Hmph…," grumbled a tired Goren.

"Good night, Bobby."

"Mmm…good night, Eames," as he pulled her closer to him.


	22. Snooping

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, yahoo!

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chapter 22 – Snooping

Characters: Goren, Eames, Deakins

Rating: T

Location: Major Case Squad Room

Katayeva was in a few minutes before Goren. They were the only two people on the entire eleventh floor.

"You spent the last two nights with Eames," said Katayeva.

"How…uh..how did you know?"

"You look much, much better. Like you actually had a decent night's sleep."

"True enough," admitted Goren.

"And I'm guessing that all you got was sleep. You are willing to accept just being there with her, like you don't think you deserve anything more."

Goren remained silent.

"So, explain something to me."

"What?"

"Why are you and Eames not together, not a couple, not married to one another?"

Goren was stunned. No one ever asked him questions like this. But, Katayeva certainly did have brass ones.

"Uh…."

"Don't give me that little boy look or do the stammering thing, Goren. I am on to you. Save the charm routine for the perps, the witnesses, and Eames," grinned Katayeva.

Goren opened his mouth. Nothing came out. So he closed it again. Scrubbed his face with both hands.

"You can stop stalling with the face rubbing, too, _partner._ Just answer my question."

"Well…uh…the NYPD has strict rules against ummm… _fraternization_."

"I've heard of it. But when did Detective Goren ever do anything by the book?"

_She just loves yanking my chain. And she's damn good at it._

"I…I don't know …that she…uh..Eames…feels…the ..the same way. The same way as I do about her."

"How did you ever get to be Detective First Grade?" sighed Katayeva, "You two have been partners for three years. I met Eames once. I knew she was crazy about you in five minutes. And not just as partners or friends."

"Uh..really?"

"Duh, really. And you are crazy about her. That's obvious."

"Oh, god…does Deakins know? Anyone else?" panicked Goren.

"I think Deakins ignores a lot. He's ignoring Logan and Barek, so he can ignore you and Eames, too."

"Uhhh…."

"When and how do you intend to tell Eames how you feel, Bobby? Are you just going to keep this bottled up inside your heart forever? Let her finally marry someone else, so you can watch her life from the sidelines? That can't be _enough_ for you. Are you really that much of a masochist?"

Goren sat down at his desk. He had never confronted himself on this subject before. And Kat had just said that Eames was crazy about him! Omigod. Could it possibly be true?

"You…you don't know..about my family…about.."

Katayeva cut him off.

"I read your file. I know all about your schizophrenic mother and the father who deserted the family. And your gambling brother. You know damn well that the majority of schizophrenics are diagnosed by age thirty. That was fifteen years ago for you, Bobby!"

"I…I've had to take care of my mother…"

"Stop making excuses for not having a _life_! Your mother is safe in Carmel Ridge. She won't be any less safe if you have a life, Goren! Happiness is contagious. Your mother might actually improve if she sees that you are happy."

He just sighed.

"You…you're a royal pain in the ass, Katayeva."

"I will stipulate to that fact any day of the week, Goren."

Other detectives and staff started to arrive. Goren and Katayeva looked around.

"Incoming," said Bobby, as he spotted Deakins approaching from the elevator bank.

"I am not through with you, Bobby Goren. We will continue this later," whispered Katayeva.

_How did I end up with this insane Russian woman for a partner? It's gonna be a long day. She's like a dog with a bone. She will not leave me alone. And could she possibly be right? That Eames could actually love me? Does love me? Like that, not just as a partner or a friend. This is overwhelming. I don't think my mind can accept it. It's too much to hope for._

Goren was brought back to reality by Deakins' voice.

"Earth to Goren. Earth to Goren."

"Uh…yes, sir?"

"How we doing on this Martin case?"

"It's …evolving, Captain."

"Good morning, Captain," said Katayeva happily, "We've covered a lot of ground. Still plenty to do, but it's progressing nicely."

"OK, I'll buy that for the moment," said Deakins, as he strolled back into his office.

_Katayeva sure knows how to turn on the charm. Just got the Captain off our backs for a while._

"How about you verify Captain Martin's whereabouts the day of his wife's death, Bobby, and I will continue my online search?"

"Online search for _what?_ You said you would tell me today."

"Fan fiction."

"Fan fiction?"

"Fans of a particular TV program write stories based on those characters. They can add characters, do a crossover with another show, insert a character based on themselves, do a case file, spin different endings to existing storylines. And Caroline Martin taught a computer class on fan fiction at her library. I saw it on the library web page last night."

"And this relates to our investigation how?"

"All those pictures she has of D'Onofrio? His show, _Lawful Order_, has a big following on the fan fiction web sites. The fans publish their stories on these sites. Caroline Martin may have written something that will give us a clue about her life or death."

Goren's elbows were on his desk, his chin resting on his left hand. Thinking.

"How many stories for this show?"

"On this site there's about 1200. The good news is that each has a summary. The bad news is that people create pen names as opposed to using their real names. Quite often the pen names reflect their interests, jobs, hobbies. Authors can also create a profile about themselves."

"Aren't these people, the fans, violating copyright?"

"Absolutely. But we are not the copyright police. Most producers allow the fans to do this, so long as they don't make money from it. The fans do it for the love of the show."

"You think Caroline Martin was obsessed with D'Onofrio?"

"No, I think she's obsessed with the character he plays, Detective Oren Roberts. Her photo collection is all of him in-character. The major restriction on fan fiction is that you can never write about the actor, only the character."

"Oh. Alright. I'll verify Martin's whereabouts. You read fan fiction."

They both got to work. Goren worked the phones. Katayeva, the keyboard.

_She's typing an awful lot for someone who's just reading stories online. Interesting to watch Katayeva concentrate. She just dives right in and is oblivious to everything else._

A few minutes later Kat was tapping her fingers on her desk. Then she was scribbling on a pad. Cross out, scribble again. And again, etc. Back to the computer screen.

"Goren, we need to visit the library where Mrs. Martin worked."

"What did you find?"

"There's a case file story on this _Lawful Order_ fan fiction site about a librarian who died in an overheated car on a hot summer day. Detective Oren Roberts is trying to figure out if it was an accident, murder or suicide."

"Did Caroline Martin write the story?"

"The author's pen name is Milton Ira Crane. The character in the story is Rose Norbert. The title of the story is Burn Out," said Katayeva, looking at her partner expectantly.

Goren just looked at her, _what?_

"Milton Ira Crane is an anagram of Caroline Martin. Rose Norbert is an anagram of Oren Roberts. Unfortunately Milton Ira Crane's profile is blank, so no clues there."

Goren just leaned back in his chair. Now he was tapping his fingers on his desk.

"None of this is proof enough for the D.A., Bobby. We need to see if Mrs. Martin accessed this site from her library. We'd better take a search warrant with us, just in case. The New York state statutes govern access to private information in a public library. Computer use is private information. I already called Carver. We can pick up the search warrant downstairs on our way to the garage."

"Let's go."

Katayeva drove the Blazer to the Astoria branch library. First the duo walked around the library to get the lay of the land.

"Public use computers in the reference room only. The reference desk has a couple of computers for the librarians. Must have Internet access."

"We'd better introduce ourselves to the library director," said Goren.

Library director, Marina Okembe, was cordial enough. She told them how Mrs. Martin was beloved by the entire staff and the patrons. No one had noticed any signs of depression or anxiety on her part. Caroline Martin was well known for her sense of humor. When Goren asked if they could look at any work computers that Mrs. Martin had used and all the public computers, the director just held out her hand.

Katayeva pulled out the search warrant and gave it to the director. The Okembe examined it and then nodded her assent. She brought them over to the reference desk and told the other staffers to allow them access.

Kat took one pc, Bobby the other. They quickly discovered those same two programs, _Hard Disk Scrubber™_ and _Window Washer™,_ as the Martin's home computers.

"Detectives," said the director, "These two programs are on every computer this library owns. The public computers also have _Deep Freeze™_ on them. It runs overnight to reset and delete anything that may have been changed or added by the patrons during the day."

Katayeva and Goren checked the bookmarks on the reference computers. Several fan fiction sites were in the list, including articles on the topic and the lingo that went with it. Katayeva copied the bookmarks on each pc and emailed them to herself and Goren.

"Didn't Mrs. Martin teach a fan fiction class?"

"Yes, she did it several times over the last year. It was a very popular class."

"Did Mrs. Martin every write any fan fiction that you know of?"

One of the reference librarians spoke up, "I co-taught the class with Caroline. In the class she always said she'd never written any fan fiction herself."

"Was there a handout from the class?"

"Yes. The handout is always a printout of the web page that Caroline created to go with the class." The librarian then logged on to the class page. It contained links to a dozen different fan fiction sites.

"Did Mrs. Martin ever talk about the _Lawful Order_ TV program? Or Vincent D'Onofrio?"

"She was a big fan of the show. She only liked D'Onofrio because she liked his character on the show. Caroline and Ray always watched it together on Sunday nights. Ray would note all the things that were unrealistic and she'd just laugh and shush him."

"Did Mrs. Martin work from a script when she taught her class?"

"No, she worked from the handout. She knew exactly what she wanted to say. Caroline was always well prepared for any class she taught."

"Is there anything…anything at all…you think we should know about Caroline Martin, either professionally or personally?" asked Katayeva.

"Caroline loved what she did. She always seemed happy. Loved her husband and kids. Talked about her and Ray retiring when everyone had graduated college. Other women complained about their husbands. Caroline never did. She and Ray seemed like soulmates."

Goren and Katayeva thanked the librarians. They started looking at the public computers, but it was of no use. Those computer programs had cleaned off everything.

They left the library and headed back to One P.P.

"Those programs on the computers, Bobby, they are the public library's method of ensuring patron privacy in spite of the Patriot Act, the snooping by the FBI, Homeland Security, etc."

"Works real well, too," replied Goren, "How about a visit to Mrs. Martin's oncologist?"

"Sure, we don't have much else to work with. We'd better call ahead to make sure he can see us," sighed Katayeva, "How about some lunch first? You must be hungry by now."

"Lunch sounds good."

"What's that saying? The way to a man's heart is through his stomach?" laughed Katayeva.

"Jack married you because you're a good cook?"

"I'm a very good cook, but so is Jack. We both had mothers who insisted all the children learn how to cook. Jack married me for my charming personality," grinned Katayeva.

Goren just snorted. She smacked his arm.

"Can you cook? I mean, besides mac and cheese out of a box, Bobby?"

"Yes, I'm a pretty good cook," he said smugly.

"Can Eames cook?"

"Yeah, she's OK. Not as uh..well as I do."

"No wonder the woman is crazy about you. A man who can cook!"

He just rolled his eyes.

Katayeva parked the car in the One P.P. underground lot. They walked to a local Italian place for lunch.

"You didn't finish explaining to me why you and Eames are playing out this opera of mutually unrequited love, Goren."

_I knew she'd never let up. _

"I…I'm not uh…convinced it is mutual."

"But you love her?"

"Yeah," sighed Goren.

"I can't believe you're that shy. I've seen you turn on the charm with the ladies. Why does Eames not know this?"

"You must know how many uh…partners …I've been though. I…I can't do anything to risk losing Eames as my partner. We work uh…so well together. She….understands me, she tolerates me."

"Tolerates you? Goren, why do you think you must be _tolerated_? You are a brilliant detective. I jumped at the chance to work with you. I find it absolutely incredible that there were a dozen detectives who walked away from that opportunity."

"I…I can be uh…difficult."

"There's a surprise," snorted Katayeva, "Everybody can be difficult, Goren. You have not cornered the market on _difficult_. Eames stayed with you not only because you're a brilliant detective, but because you're a good man. You are so afraid of turning into your parents, that you just can't see it."

Goren just looked at her.

"I also think you are underestimating Deakins."

"Deakins?"

"Yeah. He has a lot of influence and you two have the top solve rate. People owe him favors. He can call them in. You guys make him look terrific to the brass. Don't underestimate that factor."

"I…I just don't know."

"Do I have to lock you and Eames together in a room for a week? You know I will do it, Goren."

He looked at her. He could see her doing it. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea. He'd love to be locked in a room with Eames.

"The only things you'll get while you're in there is food and an unlimited supply of condoms."

Goren nearly choked on his pasta.

"What…uh what if Eames doesn't want to… to be locked in a room with me?"

"Jeez, for a smart man you are so thick headed, Goren! I promise you, after a week we'd probably have to carry you out of the room when she's done with you….but you'd be a very happy man."

"Would…would she be …ummm happy, too?"

"That would be your job, Bobby. I can't do _everything_ for you! Surely you know how to please a woman?"

He nodded.

"Excellent! I'll arrange for your lockup."

Goren raised his eyebrows.

"You…you can't really do that, can you?"

"Never bet against me, Goren. Never. Of course, you'd really enjoy losing this bet. Anyhow, you need to get off the dime here. Wouldn't you like to move beyond these platonic sleepovers?"

Goren sighed.

"I'll take that as a _yes. _And I am not going to ask how long you two have been playing this game. The answer would be _too long. _Eames' ob-gyn will soon OK her to resume sexual activity. She's been waiting for you for a long time, Bobby, and you've been waiting for her."

Goren just scrubbed his face with both hands.

Katayeva grabbed the check.

"My treat."

"Thanks."

Back at One P.P. Goren phoned Mrs. Martin's doctor. He agreed to see them later in the afternoon.

"Dr. Soros, thank you for seeing us," said Goren.

"I had no idea that Mrs. Martin failed to tell her husband and family that her cancer had returned. This must be such a shock to them."

"What type of cancer did she have?"

"Thyroid cancer. It went undetected for too long by her local doctors. It had already spread to over a dozen lymph glands when she had her surgery here. She underwent the radioactive iodine treatment, but refused traditional radiation therapy. And several months ago she refused additional surgery."

"Would those have saved her life?"

"They probably would have prolonged it. It was caught too late to be stopped."

"Did Mrs. Martin give a reason for declining the radiation and surgery?"

"Oh, yes. Quality of life. She said they would just be torture, make her miserable."

"Would you consider her a suicide risk?"

"Any terminally ill patient could potentially be considered a suicide risk. But she never gave me any reason to think she might attempt suicide. I have always admired her sense of humor. She was a very strong, very intelligent woman."

Goren and Katayeva thanked the physician for his time.

"It's five o'clock. Let's just sleep on it and go over all our stuff in the morning. We still have to look at her scrapbook, too" said Kat.

"Sounds good. I'm tired."

Katayeva dropped him at the subway station, then drove home.

Later that night at the Kennedy/Katayeva household.

"You told Goren you were going to lock him and Eames in a room for a week? With only food and an endless supply of condoms?" roared Jack.

"Yeah."

"Honey, you do have brass ones," laughed her husband.

"I've heard that before."


	23. Final Answer

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, blah blah blah.

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chapter 23 – Final Answer

Characters: Goren, Deakins

Rating: K+

One P.P., Major Case Squad Room

Goren and Katayeva met up in the elevator early the next morning.

"What's in the bag?" asked Goren.

"Breakfast. And, yes, I brought enough for you, too."

"So, what is it?" he grinned.

"A high protein breakfast."

"Oh, jeez… not one of those godforsaken soy bars or soy drinks….yuck."

"Never fear, I am not a fan of soy. It is cottage cheese with chopped walnuts, sliced fresh peaches, blueberries and strawberries."

"Hmmm…sounds OK."

When they reached their desks, Katayeva pulled out two plastic containers and handed one to her partner. Goren opened it, sniffed it.

"The peaches and strawberries smell good."

"Just eat," she replied, handing him a plastic spoon and a napkin.

"Hey, this is good," said Goren, between mouthfuls.

"Once again, Detective Goren is surprised that real food actually tastes good," chuckled Kat.

Goren had wolfed down his serving and was eyeing his partner's bowl. She noticed and produced another plastic container for him. He opened it. Sniffed it.

"Raisin bran cereal with fresh peaches?"

Katayeva nodded and tossed him a brick-pak milk for the cereal. It was still cold.

"You've thought of everything," he grinned.

"I'm a mom, it's my job to think of everything."

Goren had a momentary flashback. When he was a kid, he made breakfast for himself, his brother and his mother. His mom was in no shape to prepare meals. He never knew what it was like to have the mom who thought of everything.

As though reading his mind, "You were the one who made the breakfast when you were a kid?" asked his partner.

He nodded.

"So, maybe you can make a different life for your kids, Bobby," she said softly.

_My kids? What is this woman… nuts? First she tells me Eames is in love with me and now she thinks I should be having kids. Like that will ever happen. Any of it._

"You need to get over the I-don't-deserve-to-have-a-normal-life syndrome, Goren."

He just sighed and finished off his cereal.

Katayeva pulled over Mrs. Martin's scrapbook. They paged through it together. Contained her baby pictures, black and white, from the 1950s, parents, grandparents, friends, relatives, pets, houses she had lived in, a couple grammar school report cards, diplomas, high school prom pix, college degrees, state librarian certificate, grad school transcript, library school acceptance letter and scholarship award, job offer letters, old library cards, I.D.s, ticket stubs, bus and train passes. The very last page in the scrapbook was a photo of her car's license plate, enlarged to 5x7 size. Caroline Martin's car had vanity plates, they read: NEXT. The inside of the back cover was inscribed in her handwriting, _If love was enough, I'd still be here._

"Wow."

"When did she get the vanity plates?" asked Goren, as he logged into the DMV database from Kat's laptop, "She's had them for over a decade. So they're probably not a part of any suicide plan."

"She wasn't diagnosed until nineteen months ago," added Katayeva, flipping through medical papers.

"Nothing we are seeing in this scrapbook is not evidence of suicidal intent," said Goren.

"There's no mention of fan fiction anywhere in the scrapbook," noted Katayeva, "Were you able to confirm Captain Martin's whereabouts the day his wife died?"

"Uh…yeah. He was at meetings, arrived on time, every place has video cameras at all entrances and exits, so we know exactly when he came and went. Martin is accounted for and documented. He did not kill her. Also, I only heard good things about his marriage, his relationship with his wife."

"I spoke with a neighbor of mine who is a hospice nurse. She said that Mrs. Martin was most likely facing a painful, wasting, nasty death from her disease as it continued to spread. If this was a suicide, it was most likely an attempt to cut that process short. The patient would also view it as sparing the family from watching her slow deterioration."

Goren nodded.

"There was nothing exciting on the Martin's digital camera, video camera. The _iPod™_ had about fifty songs on it. A few were purchased via the _iTunes™_, but most were downloaded off of music CD's. Most recent music purchase was four months ago, Gloria Gaynor's _ I Will Survive._ While I can't date the music downloads, one is within the last two months."

"How can you tell?"

"It's from a new show that premiered in June on cable, _Psych. _The song was composed by the show's creator, Steve Franks, and performed by his band, _The Friendly Indians_. No one had heard the song until the show was aired. And you can download it for free from the show's site."

"Got the lyrics?"

"Of course. Here, listen and read simultaneously," said Katayeva, as she handed him the earbuds.

_In between the lines there's a lot of obscurity,_

_I'm not inclined to resign to maturity._

_If it's all right,_

_Then you're all wrong._

_Why bounce around to the same damn song?_

_You'd rather run when you can crawl._

_I know you know that I'm not tellin' the truth._

_I know you know they just don't have any proof._

_Face the deception,_

_Learn how to bend, _

_Your worst inhibitions will psych you out in the end._

_I know you know, I know you know,_

_I know you know, I know you know._

"Interesting, but certainly not an admission of a suicide," said Goren.

"Only the second stanza is used for the show. _I know you know that I'm not tellin' the truth, I know you know they just don't have any proof._ If this was a suicide, Goren, she is laughing at us from the other side."

"Or maybe she just liked the song. It is catchy, but not evidence of a suicide," sighed Bobby, "Any videos on her _iPod™_?"

"Just the trailers for _Psych_ and the _Lawful Order_ marathon that was on back in May," replied Katayeva, as she hit the controls to play them on the _iPod™._

Goren listened, "Still no evidence of a suicide."

All of a sudden Captain Deakins materialized out of nowhere.

"Got an update for me, detectives, or are we just listening to the latest hits?"

Goren and Katayeva glanced at one another.

"We should uh…wrap this up later today, Captain."

"Halleleujah," replied Deakins, as he strolled away.

"How about we do lunch, Bobby?"

Goren nodded. They headed out to a local Japanese place.

"You just ordered grilled salmon? Something healthy? Without any threats from me?"

"I uh…liked your salmon when I tried it the other day."

"OK….what are we telling Deakins about the Martin case, Goren?"

"Give me your uh…final answer, Kat."

"I am 50 sure she committed suicide and did a brilliant job of disguising it. And 50 sure it was an accident. However, I will not say that to Deakins. We don't have any convincing evidence that Caroline Martin committed suicide. Accidental death is all he will hear from me. How about you, Bobby?"

Goren took a deep breath. Held it. Exhaled.

"We've examined this from every angle. I cannot in good conscience say it was a suicide. I still have my suspicions, the same as yours, but I doubt we could ever prove it. I am going with accidental death also. And that is what the M.E. is saying, too."

"Goren, that fan fiction story, _Burn Out._ There is no ending to it. The last chapter has the police investigating, just like we are. It was uploaded over a month ago. No one requires that you finish your story within any time frame. Or even that you finish is at all."

"Did uh…Milton Ira Crane author anything else?" asked Goren.

"No. I didn't find anything else under this pen name on any other fan fiction sites either, _Lawful Order_ sites, nor any of the journaling sites. The fan fiction sites do not maintain records indicating the IP address from where each story is uploaded. They have hundreds of thousands of stories."

"Then we tell Deakins that our investigation points to accidental death. That's it," sighed Goren.

"The Captain will be glad to close the book on this," agreed Katayeva, "And so will I."

NOTE: The theme from _Psych_ can be downloaded from usanetwork dot com.


	24. Consensus

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, ruler of the universe.

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chapter 24 – Consensus

Characters: Goren, Deakins, Eames

Rating: K+

Location: One P.P., Major Case Squad.

Goren and Katayeva had just entered Captain Deakins' office. Goren closed the door behind them, they each took a seat.

"What's the verdict?" asked the Captain.

"Accidental death," replied Goren.

"Accidental death," echoed Katayeva.

"No evidence of suicide?"

"Nothing remotely definitive," answered Goren, with Katayeva nodding agreement.

"I've already spoken with the M.E. this morning. Rogers feels the same way. So, this is it. I will tell Rogers to release the body for the funeral. I will also call Captain Martin to advise him of the results of the investigation. I am sure he will be relieved. Good job, you two. I know it took a lot of digging to come up with an answer."

Goren and Katayeva just nodded.

"If you finish up your paperwork and no new case drops in your laps, you can leave early," grinned Deakins.

"Thank you, Captain," replied the detectives in unison.

Back at their desks Goren and Katayeva unconsciously mirrored one another. Elbows on desk, chin on hand, fingers of other hand tapping on desk. They suddenly glanced across at the other and realized what they were doing.

"What does it mean when we start mirroring the same behaviors simultaneously?" chuckled Katayeva.

"Uh…we're both losing it?" asked Goren.

"OK, if we had both told Deakins we thought Martin's death was a suicide, would we still be sitting here doing the same thing?"

"If we said it was suicide, Kat, we ummm…would've had some actual proof to base it on."

"True enough. Sometimes you just have to let it go. There is no proof."

"I'll uh..let it go it you do," offered Goren.

"Hmph….I think I need to do something …symbolic."

"Such as?"

"Going to the ladies room to wash my hands, literally and figuratively, of the Martin case," declared Kat, as she stood up and headed down the hall.

A few minutes later she returned.

"Feel better?" asked her partner.

"Yes…yes, I do. You should try it. Hand washing is highly underrated, Bobby," grinned Katayeva, "It's quite therapeutic."

Goren rose from his chair and headed for the mens room. She noticed him rolling up his shirt sleeves as he walked away.

_Hmmm… now isn't Goren Mr. Agreeable? He's right. We have no proof. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Because there _is _no proof. Get over it._

Goren returned, standing next to her chair.

"Now that we are nice and clean, we could umm.. go to lunch," he suggested.

"Works for me."

The pair walked to a nearby Afghani restaurant. Both ordered lamb dishes and shared some pumpkin curry. The food was good and the conversation was easy. It was the first time in days that the Martin case was not mentioned.

"Want to share some baklava for dessert, Bobby?"

"Sure."

The baklava arrived and lived up to Katayeva's expectations.

"Oh…this is so good," said Kat, licking the honey off of her fingers.

"Mmmm..," agreed Bobby, "Your stint here is nearly over. Do you know where you are going next?"

"Yes, I do. First, I am taking off two weeks. Doing a week's family vacation in St. Thomas. Maybe just chill out the other week."

"No…I umm…meant your next assignment."

"Ah…yes, to that also. I will be on loan/on active duty with the Army. Teaching at West Point for three months."

"Teaching what?"

"If I told you…," grinned Katayeva.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you'd have to kill me," laughed Goren, "You'll have to live at West Point?"

"I'll have officer's quarters, but I plan to commute from home, take the train. I'll only stay over if I have to."

"Will you have to dress in uniform?"

"Absolutely. I look really good in fatigues and combat boots, Goren."

"I'll just bet that you do. You know….I was, uh…afraid…before you I met you…"

"Afraid of what?"

"That you would be too attractive….ummm…beautiful but dumb…a distraction,..unprofessional."

"Women are always fighting the looking-too-good or not-good-enough issue," sighed Katayeva, "Her IQ is judged on her physical appearance. Being attractive implies a low IQ. Think _dumb blonde._ The only way this could be more difficult for me was if I was a blonde. When a man as intelligent as yourself thinks it, what could I expect from lesser men?"

"A woman must work twice as hard as a man…to be thought half as good. Unfortunately it is still true. And I…uh…apologize for trying to classify you based on your appearance. Deakins had shown me your photo. I told him you …you looked like a _fashion model._"

"Well, I have been a fashion model," grinned Katayeva, "Did it in high school and college. Easy money. Fun. And absolutely mindless."

"Why didn't you continue? You certainly could have."

"To be a print or TV model would have required me to lose about fifteen pounds. I just said _no_ to anorexia, much to my parents' relief. It also lacks any intellectual challenge or stimulation. I outgrew it, thank god."

"Models don't eat…baklava, do they?"

"Bobby, models don't eat …period," grinned Katayeva, as she popped the last bite of baklava into her mouth, "Tell me something, before you started working with her… did you think less of Eames because she's attractive? And blonde?"

"I…I didn't have any advance warning of Eames. She appeared one day. Deakins said this is your new partner, as of now. We just started working together. There…there was a period of…ummm adjustment. I'd been through so many partners, male and female…I just thought she would bail, too. I also made an effort to see her as a _person_, not as a _woman_."

_Well, that explains a lot._

"But she didn't bail. And the rest, as they say, is history," said Katayeva, "Goren, what is Eames' first name?"

"It's uh...Alex. You didn"t know that?"

"Sure I did. I wasn't sure that _you_ did. I have never heard you refer to her as _Alex_. Here's a tip, Bobby, if you want to court a woman, call her by her first name."

"Really?" Bobby seemed surprised.

_This is worse than I thought. He never uses her first name. She'll probably faint from shock the first time he says 'Alex'._

"Yes. And, you know, I think Alex has a doctor's appointment coming up. Have you thought of offering to accompany her?"

"Uh…"

"You don't have to tell me, Bobby. You have to tell her…Anyhow, we should get back to the office now."

Goren just nodded and they headed back to One P.P.

A little while later Katayeva overhead Goren on the phone with Eames. Apparently she agreed to have him accompany her to the doctor's.

Katayeva just continued filling out her forms, smiling to herself. _My work here is almost done._


	25. So Emotional

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, blah blah blah.

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chapter 25 – So Emotional

Characters: Goren, Eames, Deakins, Logan, Barek

Rating: K+

A few days later Goren and Katayeva went to the funeral for Caroline Martin. It was well attended by family and friends. Captain Martin had a lot of support from his law enforcement colleagues. There was a large contingent from Mrs. Martin's library.

Caroline Martin had left two passages she wanted read aloud at her funeral. The first, _Death is Nothing_, written by Canon Henry Scott-Holland, was read by her sister. The second was authored by the deceased and read by her son and daughter. She had titled it _Lucky_.

_I am a very lucky person. I know anyone listening to this does not think so, but I know better._

_Until my recent illness I enjoyed excellent health, free from aches and pains, free from limitations on my activities. I have always lived in a nice home, been well-cared for, have never wanted for any material possession. Most importantly I have known great love. Ray Martin was a gift in my life. I have been blessed with wonderful and interesting children. They have grown into better people than I would have ever thought possible. I have also been blessed with wonderful friends, who enriched my life. I cannot imagine what my life would have been without them. I only hope I have returned the favor in some small measure._

_I went from being a college dropout to having a Masters degree. I had a career that I loved and enjoyed every day. _

_If love was enough, I would still be here._

Goren glanced at Katayeva standing next to him. He could see her eyes tearing up. He felt his own throat tighten. He gently touched her arm to guide her back to their car. They left the cemetery to return to work, riding back in almost complete silence.

"Wow…I really let that get to me, didn't I?" said Katayeva, wiping her eyes with a Kleenex, "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he replied, looking at her, "Both readings were very moving, even if you'd never met the deceased." Goren patted her shoulder.

"Thanks, Goren."

When they arrived back on the eleventh floor, Deakins asked about the funeral.

"It was uh…quite moving, Captain," answered Goren, "There were a couple of readings that were very emotional."

Katayeva nodded her agreement. Deakins thanked them both for attending the funeral.

"Oh, before I forget. The Chief of D's got a call from Captain Martin, who told him that he appreciated that the Major Case detectives handled his wife's investigation with such sensitivity. The Chief of D's was very pleased."

Fortunately Deakins' phone started ringing and he ran to answer it.

Goren whispered to Katayeva, "Go splash some cold water on your face. I've got it covered here."

_She's not the hard ass cop she thinks she is. Thank heavens._

Katayeva headed for the ladies room. She returned a little while later, looking more relaxed. Goren placed a mug of steaming tea on her desk. _Tension Tamer._

"Giving me a dose of my own medicine?" laughed Kat.

Goren just shrugged. Then the two detectives got down to the paperwork.

Tomorrow would be Katayeva's last day at Major Case. Tonight her colleagues were taking her out to dinner.

Around 5:30 p.m. Goren, Logan, Barek and Katayeva left for Kelsey's restaurant, walking the three blocks. Deakins had said he would meet them there. Alex was coming also.

The food was good, the conversation easy and friendly. There was plenty of good-spirited banter among the detectives. Everyone was trying everyone else's food. They sat at a large round table, Goren between Alex and Kat. As dessert started to wind down, Mike Logan suggested a drinking contest, doing shots.

"What kind of shots?" asked Katayeva.

"It's your party, you get to choose," grinned Logan.

"OK…vodka. Smirnoff."

"You got it," replied Mike, as he signaled for the waiter.

The guys had already had a couple of beers apiece with dinner, Barek had a glass of red wine. Alex and Kat had iced tea, Lipton's, not Long Island.

"I'll just watch you all make fools of yourselves," laughed Alex, "I'm just coming off pain meds and alcohol is still out for me."

After three rounds of vodka shots, Logan decided they should be on the dance floor. Katayeva danced with Goren, Logan and Deakins in turn.

After six rounds, Mike Logan thought he should be singing into a microphone. He managed to get Katayeva to sing Rod Stewart's _Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?_ with him. They were pretty good, considering. After that Captain Deakins took his leave. His wife Angie had arrived to drive him home.

The party continued, as did the vodka shots. After nine rounds Goren and Logan were having trouble speaking. They weren't too steady on their feet either. Barek had reached her limit at seven. But Logan had continued to push Katayeva.

Much to everyone's surprise, Katayeva didn't seem to be feeling the effects of nine vodka shots at all.

"I…I know why you picked vodka," slurred Logan, "Because you're Russian."

"I knew you were a brilliant detective, Mike," grinned Katayeva.

Goren was just holding his head in his hands.

"Bobby," whispered Alex, "You mixed beer and vodka. You know better than that."

"I..I …uh had beer?…"

At that moment Katayeva's husband, Jack Kennedy, walked into Kelsey's. He was there to pick up his wife.

"God help us if Major Case is called out tonight," teased Kennedy, looking at the group.

"Hey, man, have a drink," said Logan.

"No, thanks. I'm driving," demurred Kennedy, "So, honey, how many did you have?"

"Nine. Vodka. Shots."

"Your head hurting yet, Kate?"

"Yeah, it's starting now," Katayeva nodded.

"Hey, Kennedy. How come.. ummm she can outdrink big guys like us?" asked Goren.

"You're drinking vodka. She's Russian. It's genetic. I think it runs in their veins. She and her family can outdrink anyone doing vodka. If you want to get her drunk, just give her two glasses of red wine. That'll do it."

"Oh…hey, that's…that's cheating…" said Goren.

Alex just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Anyone need a ride home here? Goren? Alex?" asked Kennedy.

"If you could drop Bobby and me at his place and help me get him upstairs," said Alex, "Otherwise I don't know if I can manage him."

"No problem, Alex. How about you two, Logan?"

Barek answered for Mike, "We go in the opposite direction, we'll take a cab, but thanks for the offer."

Kennedy and Alex got Goren out the door and into his SUV. Katayeva and Alex climbed in. They left Bobby and Alex at his apartment, after Jack helped her get the big detective upstairs.

Alex managed to remove Bobby's suit jacket, tie and shoes. Then he just fell back on the bed. She joined him there and pulled up the blankets.

Jack Kennedy drove his wife home.

"You're really going to miss those people, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I think I will."

Katayeva fell asleep on the ride home. Jack just lifted her out of the car and carried her upstairs. He woke her briefly to have her take a couple of charcoal capsules before he tucked her into bed. That would help quell any hangover. Then he climbed into bed next to her.

_Never do vodka shots against a Russian._


	26. Last Day

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, yahoo! 

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chapter 26 – Last Day

Characters: Goren, Deakins, Eames, Logan

Rating: K+

Goren and Eames were up and out the door early. She had an 8:30 a.m. appointment with her ob-gyn and Bobby had offered to come with her.

_Jeez, why did I let Logan suck me into the vodka shots thing last night at Kelsey's? Owww…Hopefully those Advil I downed will kick in soon. I don't want Eames'….ooops! Alex's doctor looking at me like I'm some wastrel. Alex, Alex, Alex. I will call her Alex. Not Eames. Alex, Alex, Alex. _

_I am absolutely astounded that Goren was able to get out of bed this morning and that he didn't bail on coming with me. His head must be pounding. That's what happens when you do vodka shots and beer. I'm just glad he is here. Not sure why he asked if he could come with me, but I'm glad he did. An ob-gyn's office is a lonely place when you have no baby and no husband._

They were now outside the doctor's office building, the visit completed. Alex had received a clean bill of health and been discharged from her doctor's care. Bobby was standing very close to her, but that was not unusual for him.

"Thank you, uh..Alex, for letting me come with you. Can I ummm…come over after work? I'll bring dinner."

"Sure, Bobby…that would be nice."

_He hasn't called me 'Eames' once. Maybe it's the vodka? Whatever it is, I like it._

Goren put her in a cab, so she'd get home safely. And when he did it, he lightly kissed the top of her head.

Alex was surprised. She looked up at him. But he just closed the cab's door and said, "I'll see you later, Alex."

When the cab pulled away, Alex Eames had a silly grin on her face.

_Thank god the Advil has kicked in. I can only hope Logan's head hurts worse than mine, since it was his stupid idea. Like to see Katayeva with a hangover, too._

When Goren arrived at Major Case it was nearly 10:30 a.m. He'd cleared it with Deakins the day before. Bobby was delighted to see Logan looking a little green around the gills. Barek seemed fine. Captain Deakins looked relatively unscathed. But, Katayeva…she looked bright eyed and bushy tailed, for god's sakes.

"Whatever you're …uh..on, Kat, I want some of it," said Goren.

Katayeva pulled a small plastic bottle out of her purse. Handed it to him. _Activated charcoal capsules._

"I had a couple of these last night before bed and another dose this morning. It detoxifies all the bad stuff in your body. Like vodka."

Goren opened the bottle, shook out four capsules, and downed them with his bottled water.

"Have you had breakfast, Goren?"

"Please…don't uh…mention _food_ just yet."

"OK, OK."

"You guys doin' drugs over here?" asked Logan in a soft voice.

"Uh…yeah….want some?" asked Goren.

"Definitely."

Goren dumped some charcoal caps into Logan's palm, handed him a bottle of water. Down the hatch they went.

"Thanks, guys," said Logan and walked slowly back across the room, sat down and put his head on his desk.

They turned around to find Deakins standing next to them.

"Apparently my detectives can't hold their vodka," chuckled the Captain, "Well, except for one Russian detective."

"You look pretty …ummm ..chipper, sir."

"Angie's a fan of charcoal capsules, too. They're a staple in our house. Otherwise, I'd look a lot more like you and Logan, Bobby."

"Detective Katayeva, we won't be working you too hard today. I need you to finish all your paperwork, turn in your weapons, etc."

"I know the drill, sir," replied Katayeva.

Deakins moved on to bust Logan's chops a little. The moaning could be heard across the room.

"When's Alex's doctor's appointment?" asked Kat.

"Been there, done that," replied Goren, pleased with himself.

"You've already been? You actually were able to get out of bed this morning and go to the doctor's with her?"

"Yes and …yes, thanks to a handful of Advil."

"And….?"

"And what?"

"What did the doctor have to say?"

"Oh, Eames…I mean Alex has been released from her doctor's care. And she can return to work on Monday," smiled Goren.

"Oh, Bobby, that's wonderful! I'm glad for you both."

_He looks happier than I have seen him the entire time I've been here. Maybe it's just because he's getting rid of me today. But I'm guessing that it's thanks to Alex. I've done everything I can do in that direction. They have to figure it out for themselves._

Katayeva brought her guns to the weapons officer. Worked on filing papers so Alex Eames' desk would be clear.

Right before 1 p.m. Goren announced that his stomach could now handle food.

"C'mon, Kat, I'm taking you out to lunch," said Bobby.

"The miracle of charcoal caps," murmured Katayeva.

The two detectives went back to the Thai restaurant where they had eaten that first day they met. Goren and Katayeva shared various dishes, ate with their chopsticks. No pending case pressures, just two colleagues enjoying a meal together, chatting about cases they'd worked, their military experiences.

When they returned, Captain Deakins asked to see her in his office.

"You've done a damn fine job here, Katayeva. You kept Goren functioning, which is no small feat, and removed Nicole Wallace from the face of the earth. If you ever want a job, I'd love to have you permanently here in Major Case."

"Thank you, Captain. It's been a pleasure working here. You have a fine group of people. Not sure where I am headed after West Point, but I will keep Major Case in mind, sir.

Deakins stood up and shook her hand, "And I have an idea of what you're doing for Goren and Eames. I hope it works," he said with a wink.

Later that afternoon Katayeva received a phone call from Alex Eames.

"Hi, Kat. I just want you to know that I made my first visit to the New York Athletic Club this afternoon. They worked up my post-partum plan. I started on the exercises. Every muscle I own now hurts, but it's better than feeling like a slug."

"Well, I bet I know someone with very sensitive hands who could give you the most exquisite massage, Alex."

"I think I know someone, too," laughed Alex.

"Don't hesitate to ask him. Your wish is his command."

"Do you really think so?"

"Most definitely, Alex. Let him do things for you. He needs you to need him."

"I can do that…and, Kat, I want to thank you for taking care of Bobby. I know what you did when Lance Brody's arrest went down. You kept him from spinning out of control, from losing his job."

"I just followed the advice you gave me that day we had lunch, Alex. It worked perfectly."

"And thanks for taking out Nicole Wallace. She's been haunting Bobby for a few years now. It's never been a pretty sight when those two were in a room together."

"I witnessed enough of their routine. I never like discharging my weapon, Alex, but for that woman, it wasn't hard to make an exception. I'm glad it was me and not Bobby shooting that day. He'd feel guilty about it, while I just don't give a crap."

"Bobby told me that you're headed up to West Point next."

"Yeah. I like the Point. My husband likes it because no one will be shooting at me. Jack considers that a real plus."

"I'm sorry we've never had a chance to work together, Kat. I just wanted to thank you for everything. If you ever need anything, please call me. I mean that."

"Please keep in touch, Alex."

"We will. Take care, Kat."

"You, too, Alex."

It was nearly five o'clock. Major Case had emptied out. Goren suddenly reappeared carrying a tubular package. He handed it to Katayeva.

"It's …uh…a little something to remember us by."

Kat opened it, unrolled it. It was the poster…._NYPD…the best detectives in the world._

"I love it, Goren. Thank you."

Then Katayeva reached under her desk, pulled out a small shopping bag, handed it to Goren.

"What's this?"

"Open it."

Bobby unwrapped the package to find a large dark blue ceramic mug. It was inscribed:

_I know you believe you understand what you think I said, but I don't think you realize that what you heard is not what I meant._

Goren just laughed out loud, "Perfect."

"It's time for me to go," said Katayeva.

"Can I…can I hug you goodbye?" asked Goren.

"Of course."

The big detective enveloped Kat in a bear hug and she hugged him back. She was surprised when he kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"If it wasn't for Alex and Jack….I'd have my eye on you, Kat."

"And if it wasn't for Jack and Alex….I'd have my eye on you, Bobby."

Katayeva kissed Bobby on his cheek.

"Bye, partner."

"Bye, partner."

NOTE: There will be one more chapter.


	27. Back to the Future

Disclaimer: Dick Wolf, blah blah blah.

Title: Hurricane Katrina

Chapter 27 – Back to the Future

Characters: Rating: K+

It is late October, fourteen months after the death of Caroline Martin. Ray Martin is logged on to his home computer, checking for emails from his kids. Both are away at college. A new email pops into his in-box. It shows the sender as _Fritzie._

_Now who the hell would be sending me something using that name?_

Caroline's maiden name was Fritz. Her nickname in high school had been _Fritzie._ Ray had never called her that, but some of her old friends still did. He clicked on the email to open it.

My Dearest Ray-

Through the miracle of electronic greetings you are reading this message that I wrote back in August 2006. It allowed me to select a future date to be sent.

I am sure that by now most of the information has come out. That my cancer returned with a vengeance. That I never told you or anyone else. _Why?_ I refused the typical medical model of a cancer patient's death. I refused to allow you and the kids watch me die slowly, disintegrate before your eyes. And I refused to watch you watch me die. If I told anyone of my plan, that would make them an accessory. I wasn't a cop's wife for thirty years for nothing.

Yes, I staged my suicide to look like an accident. Hopefully, I did a damn good job of it and none of those smart ass detectives they probably assigned to the case were able to figure it out. I am sure they had their suspicions, but no proof. I left the theme song from that _Psych_ TV show on my iPod. Bet it drove them crazy.

It did not mean that I did not love you. I was trying to protect you and the kids. You get to disagree, to be as angry as you want to. In the end, this wasn't about you or the kids. It was only about me. Forgiveness is up to you.

You can read the story of what I did on the fan fiction website. Look for _Burn Out_ by a Milton Ira Crane. (I can see you scribbling to figure out the anagram right now, Ray.) You are free to tell anyone you wish, but I imagine you will keep this secret forever. I suggest deleting this message and then emptying the trash on your email. I take it the _Scrubber™_ and _Window Washer™_ programs still run daily on our computers. That will permanently erase our tracks.

Your were the love of my life, Ray Martin. They say that we come back and meet the same people over and over again. I can only hope that is true, because then I have something to look forward to. You.

Please be happy and have a good life.

If love was enough, I'd still be there.

All my love until we meet again,

Caroline

THE END.

I hope you enjoyed Katrina Katayeva as much as I enjoyed writing her.


End file.
